We Loved in Colors
by sfaye-chan
Summary: His heart was a puzzle he himself had never believed could be completed. There were too many broken pieces to salvage the person he used to be. But maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't mind trying. (True love is never easy, not in real life, but, he thinks as he stares into emerald eyes, it's worth it.) Requested by SerenSeren.
1. euphie

**To user SerenSeren, I cannot thank you enough for requesting this and waiting patiently for it. I know, this has taken so, so long, and your patience must be insane to stand waiting for this. Anyway, I did enjoy thinking through your request and writing this (this will probably have around six chapters in total) so I hope you aren't disappointed. Hopefully you weren't expecting something _completely_ different.**

 **(Also, yes, I know, I'm supposed to be writing TTHM, but I promise that's coming up soon and this has been on my to-do list for so long anyway that I should have had this up ages ago.)**

* * *

 **Request:** _The idea of true love, but in real life, true love isn't always there right from your start. Your childhood crush, your high school sweetheart, your college fling, your years long relationship that never went anywhere... but then, when you'd stopped looking altogether, you found the one. I want to see all the relationships the above person had to go through before finding the right one._

 **Title:** We Loved In Colors

 **Summary:** His heart was a puzzle he himself had never believed could be completed. There were too many broken pieces to salvage the person he used to be. But maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't mind trying. (True love is never easy, not in real life, but, he thinks as he stares into emerald eyes, it's worth it.)

* * *

 **we loved in colors**

 _i: childhood crush_

* * *

Once, before the war came and blood was shed, he was a simple person. He was the 11th prince of Britannia and the 17th heir to the throne. He was lonely, of course—he had many siblings, but they all hated each other and him. Everyone was too busy trying to become the one their father would name his successor.

Euphemia was a kind soul—gentle, peaceful, loving. She was his younger sister, and for awhile, that was all she was. They were close, but not too close. Not until he felt particularly lonely one day, and they met at a public park.

That day, Lelouch decided he loved her.

* * *

 **twenty-three**

"What are you doing here all alone, Lulu?" she asked him breathlessly, sitting herself beside him on the bench.

"Ah, but you see, Euphie," he smiled at her charmingly. "I'm not alone. I have you now, see."

Loudly—because she couldn't be loud inside the palace walls—Euphemia laughed at her older brother. "Before I came you were plenty alone," she pointed out.

Lelouch hummed agreeably. "Yes. But it doesn't matter anymore, because now you're here."

"Alright, fine," she allowed, pouting a little.

A small smile drew itself onto his lips. "Why are _you_ here, Euphie?"

She flushed, embarrassed, and shifted her weight nervously. Her right foot played around with the fallen autumn leaves. "Lady Marianne said you'd be here," she said, flustered. "And Nunnally was with her, so I thought you might want some company."

The smile on his lips swelled. "Thank you, Euphie," he said softly. "I'm glad it's you who came."

Her blush deepened, but she smiled back at him. "Me too, Lulu," she said to him. She sighed, her breath coming out ragged and visible—the air was frosty that day, and wholly unwelcoming—and hugged herself.

Lelouch eyed her with concern. "Are you okay, Euphie?"

"Yeah," she said. "Just cold."

Clearly she was cold, he thought. She was shivering all over. He stood and offered her an arm. "We should go back home, then. I'm afraid I didn't bring a coat or anything I could offer you."

Euphemia nodded slightly. "Okay, Lulu." But she didn't hop up to her feet. Instead she glanced up at him through her hair and noted the regal expression on his face—he was a sculptor's masterpiece. "Can we just... stay here a while longer?"

Lelouch frowned. "You're freezing," he told her frankly. "If I let you get a cold, we both know whose head it is Cornelia will have on a pike tonight," he added jokingly. She cracked a smile.

Seeing as she wasn't budging, Lelouch rolled his eyes and lowered himself onto the bench again. He shuffled closer to her. "Fine," he huffed. "Just awhile, alright?"

She nodded, beaming at him. "Thanks, Lulu."

They stayed silent, with Lelouch slowly nearing her every few seconds. _I might not have a coat,_ he thought and reasoned, _but I can at least warm her up with my body heat. Until she decides to leave._

"Lulu?" Euphemia asked, her voice small and timid. "What do you want for your birthday?"

He blinked. "My... birthday?" _Oh, that's right. That's what's coming up._

She nodded, cheeks flaring deep red. "Your birthday's in two days. What would you like?"

He smiled down at her. "I don't need anything, Euphie. Your presence at the party would be a gift in itself."

She pouted, jabbing him lightly in the chest with her pointer finger. "You might not _need_ anything, but everyone _wants_ something," she said brightly, having noticed his word choice. "Besides, how could I not give anything to my favorite brother?"

"Very clever, Euphie, but like I said, your presence is gift enough for me. I'd like nothing more."

"A lot of people will probably gift you with chessboards or something similar, but I want my gift to stand out. I want you to love it."

"Listen to me, Euphie." He turned bodily so that he could face her better. "All I'd need is for you to come. That's special enough. I'd love _that_."

"It's your birthday," she muttered under her breath. "Why don't you want anything?"

"Then if you must give me something, give me a dance." He was smiling again, ruffling her hair just a little and reveling in the scowl on her face. "You _will_ spare me a dance, won't you?"

"Nana will be jealous," Euphemia remarked, but she was grinning happily. "And you'll be the belle of the ball—that doesn't work quite as well in this situation... is there a male version of belle for this phrase?" He laughed at her, and she harrumphed, giving it up. "Well, anyway, my point is, you'll be stocked with requests. I think it'll be _you_ having to save _me_ a dance."

He just smirked and nodded.

* * *

Two days later, as promised, he stole away from the fawning fans—the press, daughters of nobles, several of his half-siblings—and approached her where she stood, watching the chaos. He bowed deeply, flashed her a smile, and offered his hand.

The princess grabbed it without even a second of hesitation, and he pulled her closer as he twirled her around and around the grand ballroom.

And then, on their second song, Euphemia leaned up and whispered, her breath tickling his ear: "It isn't a chessboard."

His breath quickening, Lelouch wondered how his own sister—who was _younger_ than him—could affect him so much. "W-what?" he stammered, and then stiffened as he felt one of Euphemia's dainty hands slip into his suit.

She grinned cheerily. "Like I said, everyone wants something."

He was left gaping after her as she slid out of his arms and skipped over to her elder sister Cornelia, who stood watching him intently, a mixture of suspicion and affection coloring her gaze. He caught her eye and she offered him a tight smile, nodding as she caught Euphemia in a sisterly embrace.

Only when he escaped the noise and clamor of his party did he remember what she'd said to him that afternoon, two days ago. "You might not need anything, but everyone wants something," she'd said. "A lot of people will probably gift you with chessboards or something similar, but I want my gift to stand out," she'd told him.

And stand out it did.

Wrapped in a beautiful sheet of blue wax paper—blue was his favorite color; not light blue but the royal blue of his mother's and sister's eyes—was the key of the Ganymede, hanging on his mother's familiar keyring; the one with the phoenix arched around it.

He'd seen his mother's key enough times to know that the one Euphie gave him wasn't the real thing, but he recognized it as the same one his mother had given Euphie several months earlier—the same one his sister had loved so much—and that was more than enough.

 _"I want you to love it."_

He did.

* * *

 **twenty-two**

Lelouch really, _really_ hated the emperor right now.

It wasn't even because he'd been exiled, not really. Part of it was that, admittedly—or, at least, half of it was his father's exiling of Nunnally along with him. And part of it was the way his father had easily dismissed his mother's murder and deemed he and Nunnally _dead_. But another part of it was what the emperor was taking him _from._

"L-Lulu," the object of his thoughts sniffed. "Do—do you really have to leave?"

His jaw shifted. There was no way he was staying here now that his own father had declared him dead, but... "Yes," he said firmly. "I'm sorry, Euphie."

She sobbed and lurched forward, her small arms reaching around him and clinging around his neck. "I don't want you to go!" she shouted desperately.

Lelouch closed his eyes tightly, willing back the tears that burned against his eyelids. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I don't want to leave you." He _did_ want to leave Britannia—to get away from the man who'd let his mother's murder go unquestioned and unavenged—but that, at least, was the truth. If there was ever any reason for him to stay any longer, it would be Euphemia.

"I really wish I didn't have to leave you," he told her, and he meant it.

Euphemia smiled at him through her tears. "You'll come back to us, won't you?"

He bit his lip. He'd renounced his position as heir. His father had declared him dead. This was practically banishment—unless a miracle happened, he had no way back. But maybe... "Of course I will." Maybe he _wanted_ a miracle, for her.

"Really?"

"I promise, Euphie. I'll always come back," he whispered into her hair. He would pray for a miracle, if it made her smile.

* * *

 **twenty-one**

Somehow, some way, they became friends.

He didn't understand why—Suzaku had hated him from the start; he had made it very clear with a sharp blow to his face. And yet, somehow, they grew to tolerate each other.

Lelouch blamed it on Suzaku's similarities to Euphemia. He blamed the fact that Suzaku reminded him of home—not of the inside of the Aries Villa but of simpler times, when he had family.

Yes, Suzaku was arrogant. He was egoistical to a fault. But the soft pride in his eyes, and the stubborn way he defended his idealistic morals, was reminiscent of Euphemia's beliefs.

And maybe Lelouch just wanted to be reminded of who he used to be.

* * *

 **twenty**

"Come on, Lelouch," Suzaku whined. "You promised you'd come with me!"

Lelouch scowled angrily at him. "I did no such thing!"

"Actually, onii-sama, you did agree to accompany Suzaku-nii to the base," Nunnally countered, smiling innocently at him. Her head tilted slightly. "I believe it was during your morning exercise."

His scowl darkened. He had half a mind to argue that he'd been distracted, but to point that out was to make his shortcomings obvious, and there was no way he would ever admit such a weakness to Suzaku. He parted his mouth regardless, about to continue his protest when, as if she sensed what he was about to do, Nunnally added cheerily, "You don't want to break your promise, do you?"

He sagged in defeat, glaring at Suzaku when the boy grinned victoriously at him, unseen to his sister.

"Cheer up, Lelouch," Suzaku laughed. "Nunnally can come with us."

He hesitated. He didn't want to bring Nunnally along—the base, without a doubt, would be full of racist bigots who wanted nothing more than to prove their superiority over a couple of children. He had no wish to subject his own sister to that cruelty.

"Really?" Nunnally's voice, filled with hope, drew him out of his thoughts. "Can I, onii-sama?" Her face was bright with excitement, and he grimaced. He couldn't say no to her. How could he?

"Of course," he allowed reluctantly. At least this way she would be under his watch, and he could ensure her safety for himself.

Her smile widened, and he comforted himself with the thought that, at least, he'd made her happy.

"Thank you," she said joyfully as Suzaku chuckled and took it upon himself to wheel her to the door. Lelouch glared at his back and followed them at a slower pace, wondering how it was that he'd turned from a prince who had everything to a pawn who had nothing except for his sister and their Japanese friend.

Said sister turned slightly in her wheelchair, calling out, "Hurry up, onii-sama! Everyone at the base will have turned in for a night's rest by the time you arrive if you continue walking like that."

He rolled his eyes and laughed, hurrying toward the two and entering the chauffeur-driven car parked out front. Suzaku lifted his sister from her seat and Lelouch managed to fold the wheelchair up and pull it onto the car, making space for the other two. With ease that he envied, his friend hefted himself and Nunnally up and the chauffeur closed the door after them.

"Don't look so glum," Suzaku harrumphed. "It'll be fun, you'll see."

He didn't think it would be, but he kept quiet about his lingering doubts and smiled at his sister, despite the fact that she couldn't see it, as the car wheeled out of the driveway.

"Hey, Lelouch?" Suzaku said after awhile, yawning slightly. "Tell me about your siblings?"

Lelouch laughed. The one thing Suzaku had been interested about when they'd first started talking was Lelouch's extensive family. Suzaku had no siblings, so it hadn't entirely surprised Lelouch when the young boy began wishing to be regaled with tales of Lelouch's experience as a brother.

"Which ones?"

Suzaku paused thoughtfully. "The warrior sister; the one who admired your mother."

Lelouch's eyebrows rose. "Cornelia li Britannia," he mused. He remembered telling Suzaku about her—he'd told him about how, despite some of his other half-siblings' apparent distaste for his mother's commoner roots, Cornelia had always longed to emulate her. "It was because of her respect for my mother, the Flash, that Cornelia enlisted in the army when she was just a child. I remember that Cornelia's mother, the Duchess Rochelle, always hated how Cornelia chose to invest in the military rather than other, more ladylike, hobbies."

Suzaku grinned. "Maybe if you were more like your sister, you'd have more stamina than a fly, at the very least."

"Actually, flies have an abundance of stamina," Lelouch pointed out triumphantly.

Suzaku's eye twitched. "You know what I mean," he huffed.

Frustrated, Lelouch was tempted to argue back when he saw Nunnally frowning at their bickering. Sighing, he ignored the shot and continued with his story, "After graduating from Basic Training, Cornelia was appointed as the Captain of my mother's Royal Guard. She was to head the other Guardsmen, all of whom were handpicked by my mother."

"She was a member of your mother's guards?" Suzaku asked in surprise and excitement.

Lelouch nodded. "Yes," he answered. "She was very thorough in her job. Didn't let anyone escape her."

"Nelly was a brilliant captain," Nunnally sighed. "Probably because she didn't want to disappoint mother."

"Nelly?" Suzaku wondered.

Lelouch managed to laugh. "Nana and Euphie were the only ones who could ever get away with calling the dreaded Cornelia such a silly name."

"Oh," Suzaku said simply. Lelouch enjoyed the comfortable silence that followed for the brief few seconds it lasted, before Suzaku broke it. He asked, "Lelouch? Why were you sent here?"

Lelouch stiffened. Even Nunnally, still in Suzaku's arms, sobered visibly. There was a marked tension in the car that hadn't been there before, and Suzaku flinched. Was it really that horrible?

"...Suzaku," Lelouch began finally, quiet and dangerous. However, before he could continue and give an explanation, however vague it may have been, the car trembled. In the distance, from the direction they'd come from, Lelouch could hear a frightening roaring.

Something was burning.

With a gaze outside the window, Lelouch realized with horror that it was the ground that burned. Flames licked at the dirt, seeping through the air and lapping at cement. The fire sucked on the lives of the civilians, and Lelouch stared at the air grimly.

"—louch!"

He winced and glanced back at Suzaku, whose eyes begged for the death to stop. "What's happening?"

"...it's coming, Suzaku," he whispered, voice strangled. The missiles approaching the nation; he recognized them instantly. And he recognized the tiny flag imprinted on the tail of the weapons.

It was Britannia.

His father.

"'It's coming'? What is _it_!?" Suzaku demanded.

"War," he answered. There was no other way to put it. It was obvious what this action of aggression meant for Japan. And it was also clear what it meant for him and his sister.

They'd been abandoned.

If ever they were to return to Britannia, it would not be as children of the emperor. They would never again be acknowledged as the prince and princess they were born as.

"The tenuous peace between Japan and Britannia has come to an end," he murmured. "Bombs are falling, and there's no way to avoid the battles that will come."

"But..." Suzaku tried to protest, tears in his eyes. "But what about you and Nunnally? Why would your father attack a nation that houses his children?"

Lelouch laughed dryly, almost amused. "Regardless of our biological ties, he cannot be called our father, Suzaku. He does not deserve the title. And we are nothing but hostages in a land he has declared war upon. Our lives have been forsaken."

"And you're fine with that?" Suzaku was outraged, Lelouch could tell.

Lelouch turned away from the sight in front of him and stared sharply at his friend. "There's nothing I can do. We've been left for dead."

 _...and what about Euphie?_ he couldn't help but think. _What will she think of this when she finds out?_

At his graveness, Suzaku stared back furiously.

Lelouch shook his head. "He never intended to keep the peace," he realized, looking back at the shack he'd been living in for the past two months. Smoke billowed around the debris as the land around what remained of it lay dead and scorched.

Everything Britannia had touched was dead.

 _"I promise, Euphie. I'll always come back."_

Hadn't he sworn to her that he'd return to her side, no matter what happened?

 _I'm sorry, Euphie. I'll have to break our promise._ He had never wanted to have to lie to her, to have to hurt her. And yet here he was, doing both.

His legs quivering with a weakness he recognized and despised, Lelouch managed to keep himself grounded despite everything that threatened to topple him. He kept his eyes locked on Suzaku's, seeing anger and horror and fear reflected in the emerald sheen of his orbs, and he wondered if his own amethyst eyes told the same story.

"I'm sorry, Suzaku."

* * *

 **nineteen**

Two hard, solid knocks resounded on the door. The room's four occupants exchanged a curious glance before the oldest, a boy with blonde hair and emotionless sapphire eyes, stood and approached the entrance.

Wordlessly, he opened the door and stared at the young face of a soldier, still dressed in his uniform. "Your Highnesses," he knelt and bowed his head, but Schneizel frowned at the mournful undertone to his voice.

His half-sister neared them. "Do you bring news?" she asked.

"Where are Lelouch and Nunnally?" Euphemia interjected before the soldier could answer, and dread sank into Schneizel's stomach when the man flinched.

"Forgive me for being the bearer of bad news, Your Highnesses," he said quietly, sinking deeper into his position. "Unfortunately, the prince and princess could not be retrieved."

"W-What?" Clovis whispered. "How?"

The soldier seemed reluctant to answer him, and Schneizel's fear grew. Those enlisted in the military had all had the superiority of royalty ingrained into their very spirits. Every soldier of Britannia knew, without doubt, that their lives belonged to their royal family. They'd been trained to serve. The fact that someone who had always known, from the very beginning, whom he lived for, had hesitated in answering one of those masters... Schneizel had no doubt the terrors that had to mean.

And he was not wrong.

"Their Highnesses perished during the invasion, Your Highness."

Clovis sucked in a hard breath, and Schneizel noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that even Cornelia could not hold her bearings in the face of her devastation. She covered her mouth in horror and looked away, tears pricking her eyes.

A loud, anguished wail pierced the silence as Euphemia collapsed to the ground in despair. Schneizel didn't dare look back at her. He knew she'd been the closest to Lelouch and Nunnally, and to hear that they were dead... even he had to submit to the grief.

"His Majesty, the emperor, has declared both deceased. I was sent to inform Your Highnesses that the funeral will be held a week from now."

Schneizel closed his eyes. Lelouch had been his favorite brother. Had _always_ been his favorite brother.

"...I see," Schneizel said, and if anyone had bothered to pay close attention, they would have heard the slightest quiver affecting his voice. "If that is all..."

The soldier nodded, taking the chance Schneizel offered for what it was as he rose and kowtowed one last time before bowing out of the room and closing the door in what could only be called an attempt to flee.

As soon as the soldier left, Schneizel sighed quietly. He'd thought of Lelouch as a prodigy. A genius with great potential. The potential to be something better, something more.

That chance had been stolen from Lelouch, as surely as Japan had been stolen from her people.

* * *

 **eighteen**

A single lavender eye peered out of its new home under the bed covers, staring at the mahogany doors through blurry vision. The princess muffled a whimper and burrowed deeper into the blanket.

"Euphie?"

She recognized the voice as that of Cornelia's and groaned, turning away and ignoring her sister's call.

"...Euphie."

"Go away," she whispered resentfully, too quietly for Cornelia to hear. Her fingers curled into fists, nails pinching at soft skin hatefully.

"Euphemia."

Even after her name was spoken in its entirety, she said nothing, squeezing her eyes shut and wishing the word could be muted. It was all background noise.

"Euphemia!" Cornelia shouted, patience finally running thin. "You've been holed inside your room for a whole day now! Locking yourself in will do nothing, Euphie; they're gone."

Forever.

"I know that!" she yelled back, unable to help herself. Her teeth were clenched so tight it hurt, but Euphemia welcomed the pain. It distracted her from the worse agony of her siblings' death, after all. The death of Nunnally, who'd been the happiest and kindest person she'd known. And the death of Lelouch, who she'd known as a boy who loved—he had loved his mother and his sister, and he had loved his life, even despite the onlookers' disdain at his mother's, and subsequently both his and his sister's, origins.

"Euphie..." Cornelia said gently. "We all miss them. But you need to eat. If not for yourself, then for them."

"Shut up," she hissed.

Cornelia said nothing, too shocked to retort. Perhaps sensing the intensity of Euphemia's misery, she left her alone silently.

Euphemia sighed in relief when she heard her sister's footsteps recede into the distance. Although she loved her sister, she wanted nothing more than to be alone in the face of the vi Britannia line's death.

Her other siblings may have claimed to love Lelouch and Nunnally, but they hadn't known them like she had. She'd always been by their side—they weren't just her family, they were her best friends, her everything.

Now she had nothing.

 _Lulu..._ She stifled a sob. Why did it have to be him? _You promised me... You promised me!_

He had said that he would come back.

 _Where is he, then?_ she thought, almost hatefully. _What's coming back? His dead body?_ Her lips curled into a snarl.

 _You lied to me, Lulu..._

Because it was time she faced the facts: he wasn't coming back. He was dead and gone. And she was alone.

 _Why... Lulu... You promised..._

He'd lied.

A terrible sound erupted in the room, and it took her a delayed moment to realize that it had come from her. She shuddered, punching the bed angrily. Why did it have to be him?

 _Why!?_

The Gods were cruel, she decided, if they would take him away from her. They were merciless.

 _...please be alive._

Didn't she deserve at least one selfish wish? After everything she'd sacrificed as a daughter of royalty, as a member of the li Britannias, didn't she deserve to have something for herself?

Lelouch had been hers.

But now he was gone.

Didn't she deserve him back?

 _Please come back._

 _To me._

* * *

 **seventeen**

"Lord Ashford."

The old man stared back at him, an odd mixture of awe, wonder, and shock on his face. "Lelouch," he whispered, a question lacing the tone of his voice.

Lelouch nodded slightly, unable to even smile. "I heard the Ashfords came to Japan," he explained vaguely.

"We did," Reuben confirmed needlessly. "Please, come in."

Whether or not Marianne was dead, and whether or not the vi Britannia line had fallen to extinction, this was still the son of his closest ally and friend. Her death may have been the reason for his fleeing to Japan, but that meant nothing next to the years their partnership had lasted.

Lelouch sighed in relief, but he still didn't smile. Instead, he disappeared from the doorway, and just as Reuben was beginning to wonder if he'd ran away, the boy returned with Nunnally carried over his shoulder.

Reuben's eyes widened even more, but it came with a joy unrivaled. Nunnally, it seemed, had survived as well. He stepped out of the way and Lelouch slowly, almost as though he was wary, treaded into the building.

"Milly will be relieved to see that you've both survived," Reuben remarked, smiling. He remembered vividly the day the news came and told them that the siblings had died—the media had said that their death was what caused Britannia's retaliatory invasion. Milly had been devastated.

Lelouch's lips finally quirked into a small, sincere smile. "Thank you for this, Lord Ashford," he said softly, afraid to speak too loud lest Reuben's generosity shatter and prove to be a dream. His grip around Nunnally tightened subconsciously.

"Anytime, Your Highness."

His smile faded again and his scowl returned. "Do not call me that," he ordered. "I am no prince. Now, I am nothing but my mother's son."

"Then you should have realized that I no longer go by lord," he pointed out. "We fell from grace."

Lelouch grimaced. "I apologize for that," he said regretfully.

Reuben just smiled. "Nothing to worry about, so long as you stop calling me Lord Ashford. Besides, your mother was my closest friend. Reuben will do."

Lelouch looked a little shocked at that—perhaps the formality of royalty was still imprinted on his behavorial patterns—but he nodded reluctantly. "All right. But please, terms such as 'Your Highness' and 'prince' no longer match my status."

Reuben noticed the danger in Lelouch's expression but chose to ignore it, laughing quietly. "Very well... Then, welcome to our new residence, Lelouch Lamperouge."

Lelouch blinked in surprised, before he quickly regained his composure and let another smile escape. "Lelouch... Lamperouge," he repeated, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. "It's... fitting," he agreed. _I like it._

"That's good." Reuben grinned. "Now, please follow me, Lelouch. I'm sorry for putting you in the line of fire, son, but she's taken to screaming at me and I do like my hearing."

"...Milly?" Lelouch guessed, shivering.

Reuben chuckled and nodded. "The one and only."

Lelouch's smile faltered, but he didn't verbalize his complaints and weakly widened his smile. "I see." _If Milly was this upset,_ he mused abruptly, and the seed of guilt that had been planted the moment war came to Japan blossomed. _What about Euphie?_

* * *

 **sixteen**

"Hello, my name is Lelouch Lamperouge." Lelouch said in introduction, nodding politely in spite of the irritation in his mind. What was Milly thinking? "I look forward to working alongside you all."

Shooting his blonde friend an irate glare, he blinked and noticed that one of Milly's friends, the orange-haired girl, was staring at him oddly, an unrecognizable expression sweeping through her face even as she smiled at him uncertainly.

He ignored her smile, his lips settling into a bored scowl.

Despite his visibly annoyed look, her gaze did not falter. "Lelouch Lamperouge," Shirley mused quietly, her heart set aflutter when he cast her a quick gaze, eyebrows lifted in question. She coughed nervously. "Such a mouthful."

She nearly panicked when he sent her a sour look, the boisterous laughter of their President ringing in the background. Attempting a timid smile, she continued, "I should give you a nickname…" Her eyes brightened slightly. "I know—I'll call you Lulu!"

Even as Milly Ashford laughed heartily at her friend's words, the expression dawning on Lelouch's face made her pause slightly. There was some nostalgia to his eyes, and his jaw was unhinged as he stared at Shirley with unveiled shock.

 _"I know—I'll call you Lulu!"_

For a second, he dropped his guard and allowed himself to reminisce. Her words hit him, _hard,_ and he found himself gazing stonily at her, wondering where she'd gotten the idea.

 _"Lelouch!" Nunnally cried out angrily. "Tell Euphemia that you're going to be marrying me, not her!"_

 _"But you have to be my groom, Lulu," Euphemia said sullenly, tears in her eyes._

 _Lelouch blinked unsurely. Nunnally was his sister. He'd always love her, but he couldn't imagine her as anything more. After all, they shared both their father and mother. Euphemia, however..._

 _He smiled slightly. He could see her walking down the aisle toward him, one day._

Her voice still haunted his dreams, sometimes. _Lulu, Lulu, why Lulu?_

"You know Lulu is a girl's name, don't you?" he asked her—Shirley, he thought her name was—and was surprised to find that his own voice was full of fondness.

"Sorry!" Shirley squeaked under his attention. "I won't if you don't want me to…" she murmured. Her voice trailed off, and he found his lip curling into a slight snarl.

 _So shy, so timid._ "Whatever," he huffed, walking away towards the large table in the middle, depositing his bags by one of the chairs. _So unlike Euphie,_ he thought regretfully. _She'd never give up, not her._

Milly was staring at him in open surprise, a little shocked that he'd let Shirley do as she wished, _just like that._ It was so _unlike_ him, and yet the move fit him perfectly. _Unexpected._

"My, my, _Lulu,_ " she mocked with an overbearing grin, watching him curiously as he cocked his head, staring up at her quietly. "Got your eye on someone already?" Her smile widened, her eyes twinkling with silent laughter.

To her surprise, Lelouch only smiled at her patiently—a mysterious smile. "Perhaps, Madame President." His voice was calm and only held amusement, further shocking her, despite herself.

 _"Aww,_ how _cute,_ " she cooed, laughing a little. "Though, I'm hurt, _Lulu._ Are you getting tired of little old _me_?" Milly felt something like pride stir in her chest when Lelouch's head reared upwards and he stared at her with shocked mortification, shades of surprise and embarrassment on his face.

Milly grinned and laughed rambunctiously, thinking, _Now that's a little more like the "Lulu" I know._

"Madame President!" Shirley and Lelouch both exclaimed, although Shirley extended her complaint slightly, her voice hysterical as she protested, "Lulu wouldn't—"

Shirley stopped mid-rant, blushing furiously as she flinched and stared at the floor. "Oh, _yes,_ " Milly smiled. "Your Lulu wouldn't, would he?" _Attached already, Shirley?_

"Madame President!" Shirley exclaimed, a bright, crimson glare covering her cheeks. Out of the corner of her eyes, Milly saw Lelouch sigh in resignation and pull out his papers.

"Don't worry, Shirley. Lelouch's a gentleman." She smiled fondly. She'd missed him, she really had.

With a raised brow and sigh at her antics, Lelouch tuned her out and logged onto his laptop. And yet, even as he worked on his duties, fulfilling his role as Vice-President of the Ashford Academy Student Council, he couldn't help but see a pair of glimmering lavender eyes staring at him, just waiting for him to notice her.

 _"You'll come back to us, won't you?"_

* * *

 **fifteen**

They all sat along a long, rectangular table, sipping on their teas and waiting for their meals to arrive. At the head of the table, a large, imposing man sat, his imperious gaze cutting into them all.

The bells chimed, and multiple trays were pushed into the room, each topped with gleaming plates and bowls. They had their dishes served to them, and they ate silently, nothing out of place as not even the sounds of clinking forks and spoons echoed.

At the end of their meal, the king stood from his seat, instantly commanding their attention. He said nothing, but all of his wrath and his authority instilled within them all a single order. Wordlessly, they rose and bowed out of the room, slipping out of their silence only when they'd escaped his all-seeing stare.

"Euphemia," one of the princesses called out, a malicious smirk crawling up her lips. "Your ribbon is black, today," she observed.

Euphemia stared at her sister calmly, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing her distressed. "So it is," she responded with a noncomittal hum.

Carine's eyes narrowed. "Is this because of your darling commoner brother and sister?" she sneered.

Euphemia's lips twitched, just slightly. "Need I remind you that they are your siblings, as well?"

"Their existence shames us all," Carine hissed. "Neither they, nor their mother, should have ever come to receive the name of Britannia."

"An attack on the vi Britannias is an attack on our lord father," Euphemia countered levelly. Carine paled, and she smiled a little. "Are you suggesting that the king's decree was flawed? Are you _disagreeing_ with his children?"

Carine harrumphed. "I cannot wait for the day to come when he realizes that you are _worthless_."

"You are forgetting your place, Carine ne Britannia. Do not forget; just as I am, you are only his daughter. You _will_ respect Lelouch, Nunnally, and Lady Marianne as your relatives."

She wondered if he'd be proud of her, if he saw her now. She hoped he would be—she hoped he was staring down at her and smiling.

* * *

 **fourteen**

He knew Euphemia had never liked his fondness for the board game. She'd hated how it took him away from playing with her and Nunnally, she'd told him countless times.

He imagined she would hate chess even more if she knew it dragged him into illegality—if she knew it took up most of his time, time that could be spent with Nunnally.

* * *

"Come on, Lulu," Rivalz laughed from ahead of him. "If you don't hurry up, we'll be late and Madame President will give us a piece of her mind," he warned.

Lelouch turned around and glared at Rivalz. "It's Lelouch," he said, almost but not quite hissing.

Rivalz frowned. Playfully, he argued, "But you let Shirley call you Lulu."

"That's different," Lelouch said stubbornly. He didn't say the truth: that Shirley reminded him of Euphie, in all her innocence and cheer—that he wanted a reminder of his past in his present.

"Different how?" Rivalz asked, refusing to back down. He waggled his eyebrows accusingly. "Is it because you like her?"

Lelouch flinched when a vision of his half-sister drifted to the forefront of his mind. He banished the image from his mind. "No," he said. He wasn't lying.

Lelouch imagined that Rivalz must have noticed the hard steel in his eyes and voice, because he wisely let it go. Silently, Rivalz waited by his motorbike.

Lelouch sighed. There was no use dragging it out; he had a match, and no matter how angry it made Milly, he needed the money, for Nunnally more than anything else. "Let's go," he said tiredly, stepping into the sidecar.

Wordlessly, Rivalz nodded and began to drive toward their destination.

 _Chess used to be just an outlet,_ Lelouch mused. _A hobby I pursued because excelling at it meant a chance to defeat Schneizel, even if it was just in chess. Especially if it was just in chess. Now, it isn't escape to freedom or fun anymore. It's just another reminder of how far I've fallen._

"We've managed to snag another big opponent," Rivalz commented idly. Lelouch almost smiled. Rivalz chanced a glance at his friend and sang gleefully, "The renowned count of the Hargreaves noble house."

"Indeed," Lelouch remarked. "A noble is always a good chance for more things to come. They're too arrogant for their own good."

Rivalz nodded, relaxing slightly in his seat. The tension seeped out of the air. "Well, I hope arrogance hasn't gotten ahold of you, because we're here."

"Of course not," Lelouch scoffed. He eyed the luxurious pillars and archways with curiosity. "Arrogance is an old enemy of mine."

He remembered how overconfidence had nearly gotten him killed. Instead of death, his sentence had been exile. After landing Nunnally in the same precarious boat, he had vowed to never let cockiness take control of him again.

They drove through the gateway almost completely untroubled. Despite their age, the security guard barely batted an eye and Rivalz only had to give the name L.L. to be permitted to drive through. Lelouch sneered at their belief of superiority that let them ignore possible threats.

"Such grand opulence, don't you think?" Rivalz hummed from the driver's seat.

Lelouch almost laughed. _Perhaps here in Area 11, but it's nothing compared to the Aries Villa,_ he thought bitterly. "A waste of money and resources," he said instead. When Rivalz raised an eyebrow curiously, he elaborated, "All of this could go to funds for charity or to giving those impoverished a better life. But of course, the nobility would rather spend to further their comfort rather than for their countrymen's health and safety. It's despicable."

Rivalz whistled. "I've never thought of it that way," he admitted, laughing uneasily.

"Of course you haven't," Lelouch said. He laughed, too, but with disdain. "The problems on the street and in the ghettoes are heavily discolored and mangled by the media. No one cares about the misfortunate. In Britannia, the only thing that matters is the strong."

"Damn," Rivalz sighed. "I guess that's true. But by in the ghettoes, do you mean the Elevens?"

Lelouch almost sneered. But he kept himself restrained and he only smiled, one that burned his lips with searing accusations from Euphemia, who'd loved everyone equally. He saw Suzaku's eyes and flinched, looking away. "I mean everyone," he said finally.

He gestured for Rivalz to follow him and headed into the manor, barely sparing the butlers and maids a glance. Perhaps they, too, saw his anger and his regality—there was no denying the authority in his amethyst eyes—and they stayed away. He and Rivalz were directed to a vast room near the back, and the first thing Lelouch noticed when he entered the room was the wide, staggering smile on the face of a nobleman.

He was just like all the other members of the aristocracy, Lelouch mused with a scowl. Just like the emperor, with beliefs of greatness so deeply embedded in his mind it was inescapable.

The count's smile turned sly at the sight of them. "Schoolboys?" he wondered, an amused undertone to his voice.

Lelouch's lips quirked upwards into the smallest semblance of a smirk. "Good afternoon, Lord Hargreaves," he greeted. "I am Lelouch Lamperouge."

"L.L.," the count acknowledged. His eyes twinkled. "I assume you will be playing me?"

"You assume correctly," Lelouch answered, sliding into the seat provided for him with effortless grace. Without a word, Rivalz stepped up behind him, observing the scene on the chessboard.

"Good luck," Rivalz muttered beneath his breath.

Lelouch's smirk broadened. "Luck isn't favoring me right now," he said to Rivalz. "But I won't need it for this."

It turned out that his words held truth. In front of him, as they stared at the chessboard upon which the white king lay toppled, Lord Hargreaves frothed at the mouth. "How _dare_ you," he seethed.

Lelouch tilted his head. "How dare I?" he repeated.

"You must have cheated," Lord Hargreaves accused. "That is how they refer to you as: a scoundrel who deceives his way toward his victory! You have not earned any winnings."

Rivalz tensed behind him. Unfazed, Lelouch stood, smiling calmly. "I assure you, Lord Hargreaves, no amount of trickery was involved in this game."

"Liar," he hissed.

Lelouch approached a large, intricately designed vase he'd been eyeing throughout their game. It was colored a pure white, with swirls of blue licking across its surface. "How much did this cost?" he asked. "Surely, it must have cost more than my winnings, didn't it?" Very deliberately, he turned to face Lord Hargreaves even as one of his fingers traced the lip of the vase.

Lord Hargreaves sputtered, outraged, "You—!"

Lelouch cocked his head upwards.

Lord Hargreaves' eyes enlarged and he fell silent. He gritted his teeth and signaled his defeat with his eyes, which glared daggers at Lelouch despite the white paleness of his face. "Lilian," he said, beckoning for one of the maids to approach him. She did, and without removing his gaze from Lelouch, the count ordered, "Retrieve the money."

She curtsied and left the room.

Rivalz's eyes flickered between Lord Hargreaves and Lelouch as they continued to make eye contact. Finally, when the woman returned with a metal briefcase, Lelouch's serious expression cracked and he removed his hand from the vase with a satisfied smirk.

He retrieved the briefcase from Lilian. "Thank you," he said to her, and she nodded stiffly as she stepped back into her place.

"Have a nice day," Lelouch bid Lord Hargreaves, bowing as he exited. Stumbling to catch up to his friend, Rivalz hastily did the same and hurried off.

"Lelouch!" Rivalz called out. His friend slowed his pace and Rivalz stepped into stride beside him with a relieved sigh. "That was intense," he remarked.

Lelouch only smiled. "He needed to know his place," he countered.

"I don't understand. He's a noble," Rivalz pointed out.

Lelouch hummed noncomitally. _And my father is the emperor, but that makes him no more just or fair than the common man. He is king, and yet he is flawed. Superiority is a lie fed to the cruelest of monsters._ "He is," Lelouch agreed. "But his nobility is not what I was referring to."

They said nothing more as they left the manor, entering the streets of Area 11.

Rivalz was about to ask his friend a question when their attention was directed toward a commotion nearby.

"S-Stop!" It was a woman's voice. Lelouch's eyes narrowed. "Please," the female begged. "I haven't done anything."

"Come on," Lelouch muttered, steering Rivalz away from his motorbike and leading them both to a pack of tall, broad-shouldered men surrounding a cowering brunette.

"Wait! Lelouch!" Rivalz stammered, attempting to keep Lelouch back. "Stop it," he hissed into his friend's ear. "Think about it! What can _we_ do?"

"Believe me," Lelouch chuckled. "All I'm doing is thinking."

He channeled his brother, Schneizel, as he gestured for Rivalz to stay in place and snaked away, further into the crowds. He was relieved when he spotted two policemen patrolling the road.

"Hey!" he shouted. They glanced at him, scrutinized his Britannian appearance, and approached him curiously. He pointed at the group of men huddled around the woman and said, "Isn't that the kind of thing you're supposed to be looking out for?"

They glowered at him. "She's an Eleven," one of them sneered.

Lelouch's gaze darkened. "She is a citizen of Britannia. You are forgetting that when your emperor colonized this nation, he made all its people yours, as well."

The other policeman squinted at him suspiciously. "'Your emperor'?" he quoted. "His Majesty is _your_ king, too," he reminded Lelouch.

Lelouch suppressed a snort. "Yes," he agreed distastefully. _For now._ "Will you spit on his decree by ignoring the plight of one of his subjects?"

"A citizen, eh?" one asked, amused. He sounded as though he found the idea as appalling as it was ridiculous.

"Yes," Lelouch responded. "She is an Honorary Britannian." She had to be, to have access to this part of the Settlement.

"Fine," the first policeman grumbled.

The second one glared at him. "Who are you, boy?" he asked hatefully. "Your eyes hint to an aristocratic upbringing but you certainly do not act like a member of the nobility."

Lelouch hated being reminded of his childhood. It only magnified his fall from royalty. "I'm no one," he said. "Help her."

They moved toward the group, and he returned to Rivalz's side. "Watch," he said to Rivalz. "No one can escape punishment, even if their victim is a Number."

After the policemen dragged the four teenagers away, Lelouch allowed himself to relax and approach the quivering woman. She stared up at them with tear-filled eyes. "How?" she whispered. "I'm only an Eleven."

Lelouch found his lips curling into a snarl. "Stop," he demanded. "Who will stand up for you if even you yourself choose to degrade your heritage? Take pride in your ancestry; we all do."

"But you're Britannian," she choked out. He watched as the tears fell onto her cheeks and rolled down her face. "Why help me?"

"We are all the same," he said. He thought of his sisters, Euphie and Nunnally, and wondered what they would say. Finally, he imagined the kindness in Euphie's smile and said, as she would, "Why wouldn't I help?"

"Thank you," the brunette wept. She grasped Lelouch's offered arm and he brought her to a stand. She cried into his shoulder. "Thank you."

Lelouch smiled, just barely. "You don't need to thank someone for doing something that should be expected—helping should be the norm." He knew Euphie had believed in that. "And besides, it wasn't me. It was the two policemen who decided to take the chance. I couldn't have helped you."

The woman shook her head. "Still," she said, "nobody likes to help an Eleven. They wouldn't have acted if it weren't for a miracle—somehow, you convinced them, didn't you?"

Lelouch sighed. He thought of Suzaku, and his childhood friend's pride in his nation, and he soothed, "You're still Japanese. No one can take the Land of the Rising Sun away from you."

She jolted, startled. "I... How can someone born of Britannia be as compassionate as you?"

He said nothing.

Later, after they had walked her to her stand—she sold desserts, he noted—a few meters away and they were back in Rivalz's motorbike, Rivalz asked him, "What was that all about?"

Lelouch just shrugged. "It was about the truth."

 _Euphemia's truth._

The Japanese woman, she had reminded him of Euphemia. She had had Euphemia's infinite kindness, despite her misfortunes. And no matter what she said, he couldn't help her, the same way he hadn't been able to help Euphemia.

* * *

 **thirteen**

After seven years away from her, he still recognized her instantly the moment she stepped into the room, a vision of pink hair and wide, open eyes.

He should have known she would go here to talk to the leader of the operation. Really, he _should've_ known. She'd always been too selfless, too kind, for her own good.

"Euphemia," he remarked, drawing himself up to his full height as, behind his mask, he silenced a sob. To be faced with his beloved sister—with his Euphie—after all this time... and to be separated by Zero. "You revealed yourself to save the masses." It wasn't a question. "How like you."

She blinked and glanced up at him, an uncanny mixture of confusion and misery and anger in her stare and he wished she could just smile and laugh with him because she'd never looked at him with such distrust before—

He hated it.

* * *

 **twelve**

 _She is the daughter of that man. The princess of his empire,_ he thought firmly to himself, trying to solidify his justifications even as a part of him—the part he could never suppress despite wanting to—screamed at him for his actions.

 _Euphie…_ he mourned. _Forgive me._ He caught himself at the last moment and, behind his mask, he scowled at his own thoughts. _No. She is Euphemia li Britannia._ He could not be weak. He'd said it himself, hadn't he?

To Clovis, his brother, he'd said without wavering, _"You can't change the world without getting your hands dirty."_

He knew that. He _knew_ that.

"Lelouch."

And yet...

"Lelouch, it's you, isn't it?"

And yet she was Euphie, undeniably. Even now, as she tried her best to stare up at him while concealing her fear, he could see the sister he'd loved in her. The sister who'd gazed at him with adoration and admiration as she laughed at his antics.

He froze, eyes widening behind his mask as he trembled just the slightest bit at her words—asked in such an innocent fashion, with her blinking up at him and ignoring his gun.

"I haven't told anyone, I swear, so please let me know before you shoot me."

And he could deny it—laugh at her and call her a fool—but she was his sister, the same sister who'd always been so fond of him, and he knew his resolve would weaken before it did. He swallowed and fumbled as he removed his mask willingly, desperate for her recognition.

Desperate for _her._

* * *

 **eleven**

The next time he met her face-to-face, it was entirely by accident.

It was getting close to Nunnally's birthday, and it was with that in mind that he'd set off in search of a worthy present. While strolling past the shops, he caught a glimpse of glimmering amethyst and sapphire. He stopped abruptly, turning and eyeing the pendant with admiration. It was beautiful—gold twisted into a phoenix; wings splayed out as if in midair; colors shining from its wise eyes, graceful feathers and parted beak.

It was exactly what he saw Nunnally as: a phoenix quite like the rising sun, gifting a little light to the darkness that reigned around her as she guided him to freedom.

He entered the shop without hesitation, walking towards the front desk and smiling. "Hello," he greeted. "How much for the phoenix out front?"

The man eyed him suspiciously, his gaze sweeping over Lelouch's uniform with visible disdain. He whipped out a calculator, keying in a few numbers before showing the result to Lelouch, who merely nodded. The man's eyes narrowed. "A school student, wanting to buy something so magnificent?"

Lelouch shrugged. "So long as it's bought, why do you care, right?"

The older man visibly balked. "You're very outspoken for a delinquent," he commented rudely. "I bet all your cash comes from illegality."

Lelouch raised a brow, surprised at the cashier's conclusion. _He's right, but not in the way he's assuming._ Before he could say anything in response, however, a familiar voice defended him:

"You have no right insulting your customers, Mr. Henry."

Lelouch's eyes dropped to the cashier's nameplate, finding that his name was, indeed, Henry Elgatine.

Mr. Henry jumped in recognition as his eyes widened in surprise and fear. "Y-Your Highness!" he managed to hail, stuttering through his words.

Lelouch smiled slightly, spotting the warm shade of pink through his peripherals. He turned, and as would be expected of a civilian, bowed deeply. "Your Highness," he said.

The princess gasped quietly, but her years of mastering royal etiquette and customs must have paid off because she regained her composure quickly and smiled kindly at him, eyes shining with unbidden glee. She faced the cashier again, fixing him with a stern look as she admonished, "You, Mr. Henry, must be outspoken yourself for daring to make such assumptions of a fellow citizen of our glorious empire."

"I—I apologize, Your Highness."

Her eyebrow skipped upwards in curious surprise. "It is not me whose forgiveness you should be seeking."

He flinched, but nodded rapidly and shot out, barely even sparing Lelouch a glance, "Forgive me, young man."

Lelouch just smiled and shook his head. "It is fine. Now, if I may make my purchase?"

"But of course," he hurried to agree. After a hesitant pause, he added, "Unfortunately, we seem to be out of stock. If you are fine with buying the pendant in the window..?"

"That would be great, thank you."

Mr. Henry wasted no time in scampering out from behind his desk and gently removed the pendant from the display, striding back towards Lelouch and, oddly, Euphemia. He wondered why an imperial princess would need to remain by a simple schoolboy's side, but did not question it as he slid back into his place and boxed the pendant.

"Sir," he said.

Lelouch nodded and took out his checkbook, grabbing a pen from the table and hastily signing a check, ripping it out and putting it in front of the cashier. "Thank you, Mr. Elgatine."

Without a second to spare, he picked up his sister's present, which Mr. Henry had taken the time to wrap and place inside a bag, and exited the shop. Euphemia found herself by his side a moment later.

"Lelouch," she called out.

"Be quiet," he snapped back in a hushed whisper, eyes flitting from side to side warily.

Euphemia laughed quietly. "There are no guards around, if that's what you're concerned about."

He pursed his lips. "Not here," he said finally, walking ahead of her and heading towards the nearest park. When they arrived, he ducked through the gateway and found a secluded spot behind a large, dappled oak tree.

She came up behind him and inhaled sharply. "It's lovely," she remarked, staring at the rippling lake that sat before them, butterflies sweeping down to skim across the water.

He looked at her curiously, shaking his head in fond exasperation as he seated himself on the grass and shrugged off his jacket. Laying it down beside him, he gestured for her to help herself.

She smiled slightly, both touched by his gesture and surprised that he'd bother at the same time. "You're as gentlemanly as ever," she said wistfully, leaning into the barren trunk of the tree behind them. "I see the common life hasn't changed you much."

"And you're as gorgeous as you always have been," he returned with a close-lipped, half-smile. "It seems as though even the sharp jaws of the lions have failed to taint your beauty."

She blushed deeply, averting her eyes even as her hand reached up to push a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You flatter me," she replied with a quiet, subdued laugh, ignoring the flutter in her stomach. _If only we could return to our earlier years..._

Oh, the things she'd do to have him back, for good.

"It's only the truth, dear sister."

The sincerity in his voice was heartwarming, and yet the term 'sister' was a stinging reminder that that was all they were. Siblings.

"Lelouch..." She mourned him because even though he was alive, he was gone to her, undeniably and unavoidably. He had _been_ gone to her ever since he was flown off to a different nation altogether and she'd failed to save him.

He might still live on, but their chance had disappeared, just as surely as if he had truly died during the invasion.

"Euphie..." he whispered back, voice fraught with despair, and she liked to imagine that, perhaps, he grieved for the opportunity they no longer had, as well.

* * *

 **ten**

"Hey, Lelouch," C.C. prodded, eyes flickering with annoyance. Her arms wrapped tighter around her cherished Cheese-kun doll, and she nodded towards the window. "Your precious princess is here."

"What!?" he asked sharply, voice strangled. He jumped to his feet and looked outside the window, groaning and closing his eyes in resignation when he saw Euphemia wander through the campus in a disguise that, to him, was all too obvious.

Her pink hair, although not entirely concealed, was kept hidden beneath a wide-brimmed sun hat, and sunglasses were perched on her nose. Instead of her normal high-waisted dresses, she was garbed in a sleeveless, pastel-hued dress that fell to her thighs.

She could fool everyone else—she could probably even fool Suzaku. But she would never be able to fool him.

"What does she think she's doing?" he groaned, sending C.C. a warning glare as he stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Didn't she understand?

Ashford Academy was no place for royalty.

It hadn't been for Prince Lelouch, nor Princess Nunnally, and it wasn't for Princess Euphemia.

 _Don't you get it? Our lives are no longer intertwined, now. Our fates have diverged. You don't belong here, and I don't belong in the palace._

Perhaps she thought Ashford Academy was quite like a castle, then, to house the exiled siblings she once so loved. That was how he found her—eyes dragging around the wide halls and overarching pillars, wonder on her face and in her eyes.

He sighed. _Euphie... you are too good for this world._ And she was. Too good for him, too. "Esse?" he called out as he neared her; she ignored him, not recognizing the name. He rolled his eyes and tried again, "Esse."

She jolted to a start, her awestruck eyes enlarging as they found his own. Quivering with unshed tears, her lips formed a shaky smile, the beginning of his name forming on her lips.

He cut her off, whispering, "Come with me."

She did, following him without hesitation or doubt as he wove through the winding corridors until they arrived at the Clubhouse. He heard a gasp from behind him and imagined she was admiring the splendor and luxury of the place, when compared to the rest of the campus.

 _Does it suit your tastes?_ he longed to ask, longed to turn around to face her with a playful, teasing smile. And she would smile back, laugh at him as she pointed up to the chandelier and wondered back, _Why have a bejeweled chandelier at a school?_

But he ignored her and muted the echoing wishes of his heart, thrumming against his chest. She was a princess. And he was only a commoner.

It was their reality, now.

Now that their fairytale had ended.

* * *

 **nine**

Every time he thought of her—imagined her voice whispering in his ear, sending her words into his blood—his mind would falter. He would envision her long, wispy hair entangling itself in their embrace, and he'd recall the way her arms wound around him as she wept against his chest.

He would remember how he'd loved her.

All of her.

 _"Can we never be the same again?" she mused aloud, eyes watery with tears as she turned her back to him in grief._

 _He shivered and breathed in the overwhelming scent of her, idly toying around with locks of rosy pink hair. "Is change that terrible?"_

 _She laughed weakly. "Not always. But I'm the daughter of the emperor, and you're dead. How can a change that separated us ever be anything_ but _terrible?"_

 _"There are rumors that a life after death exists," he responded lazily. "You could travel to that afterlife and remain with me."_

 _"I wish I could," she said mournfully, and he did not answer._

He wished he had answered her. He should have answered her.

Instead, he'd stood up, avoided her aching, curious gaze, and headed to his bathroom. He'd waited until he had heard her footsteps start and drift away before stepping into the shower, hoping the rhythmic sound of pattering water would drown out his sobs.

 _I'm sorry, Euphie._

A shadow shifted, looming over him and blocking out the light.

 _No. Euphemia li Britannia._

He missed her. He even missed being her brother.

Why had she always been able to see through to him despite the cage he'd built around him?

And as always, without fail, she had managed to find the key. And she'd coaxed him out of his shell.

 _I wish—_

"What's wrong with you today?"

 _—that things could be different._

He forced on an expression of indifferent boredom onto his face and glanced up at the figure who towered above him. Icy blue eyes and shoulder-length sun-kissed hair greeted him—a stark contrast to the sight of Euphemia's warm lavender and long sakura, he couldn't help but think regretfully.

"Nothing," he said finally, managing a small smile. "Why would you think that something was wrong?"

"How long do you think I've known you for?" Milly returned sharply, a knowing glare on her face. She snorted. "You haven't spoken all day."

He rolled his eyes. "And I'm not usually this quiet?" he retorted, his eyebrow arching to form his signature look.

She scrutinized him for a few long seconds, her hardened gaze softening as she stepped closer to him and whispered so that none of their friends could hear her, "I know she was here yesterday."

He stiffened, tension seeping into his usually relaxed posture. He ignored the questioning stares of Rivalz, Shirley, and even Nina—Suzaku had military duties, they'd been told—and he hissed back, just as quietly, "I'm fine, Milly."

Her expression soured. "I'm your friend, you know?" she murmured brokenly. He ignored the twinge of guilt that pinched him. "You can trust me."

He managed to widen his smile, just slightly. "I know," he muttered. "And I do."

She nodded finally, and he guiltily let out an inaudible sigh of relief when she swept away from him.

Because she was right.

Euphemia's presence yesterday _was_ what had been affecting his mood all day.

And there was nothing Lelouch, much less Milly, could do about it.

* * *

 **eight**

It was after she announced the Specially Administrative Zone of Japan that he dared to risk it. He hadn't even been thinking about the risks. The only thing on his mind was his need to understand.

Why did she do it?

 _Why does anyone do anything?_ he wondered and laughed inwardly, perched on the balcony railing of his half-sister's room. She wasn't inside, oddly enough. The suite was empty.

He waited impatiently for her arrival, his questions beating on his mind like one would beat on a drum. He thought he'd made her, at the very least, see the truth. And yet here she was, hoping for the past. Hoping for a utopia that could only ever be a fantasy.

Peace was impossible. Under the oppressive boot of Britannia, such a thing as unity was unattainable. He knew this—the fact had been grilled into his head the day his father's bombs rained down on Japan.

Couldn't Euphemia accept that?

He'd told her, countless times, that a world where Britannia and Japan lived together in harmony was nothing but a fool's dream.

He ground his teeth mercilessly together and his eyes flashed with anger. She was ruining everything. Risking everything.

Sound inside the bedroom averted his attention, and he set his feet on the balcony silently, gliding towards the sliding glass doors. Despite the curtains that attempted to hide her from him, he caught glimpses of her shadow moving across the room, depositing her heels by the closet and nearing the bed.

He waited until she seemed to have shrugged on a nightgown before knocking quietly. He saw her jump, startled, and watched as she stayed rooted in spot for a moment.

He knocked again.

Her fingers coiled around something nervously, but she moved toward the balcony doors nonetheless. After all, if he meant her any harm, it would have been incredibly easy to break into the room.

However, instead of sliding open the door like he'd expected her to, she reached up and pulled open the curtains, and his breath hitched as he came face-to-face with Euphemia li Britannia, sweet eyes wide with terror.

The fear fled from her when she saw him, and a smile crept onto her lips. A spherical item dropped from her grasp, and he realized that what she'd been gripping was a simple device—a small red button in the center of an expanse of black. Pressing the button would likely have alerted security, he figured, and hoped she hadn't jumped to conclusions.

She frantically pushed on the doorframe and flung herself toward him. Out of instinct, he spread his arms open and welcomed her as she hugged him close.

"Lulu," she mumbled into his shirt. She pushed herself away from him and stared up at him through pleading eyes. "Did I do okay?"

He hesitated. It would be so easy to yell at her, to tell her she had no idea what she was doing. But what would admonishing her do? What had been done could not be undone, and whatever mistakes Euphemia had made would have to be dealt with. Scolding her would only serve to hurt her.

"Yes," he assured her gently, cursing himself inwardly. She, along with Nunnally, had always been his weak spot. It was undeniable. "You did great."

Her smile, he decided, was worth a world of trouble.

* * *

 **seven**

A few days later, he found her again, underneath the same tree he'd led her to two months ago. Curious, he approached her, but even when he sat down beside her, crumpling the autumn leaves under him, she didn't flinch.

"Does it remind you of Aries Villa?" he whispered, and she shrieked. She jumped up to stand, flailing slightly as she whipped around to stare at him in a panic. Her eyes landed on him, and on the regal amethyst she had seen countless times in her dreams, and she fell back down onto the pile of leaves with a shocked exhale. He saw the surprise on her face and grinned.

"You gave me a heart attack," she accused, rolling her eyes and punching his shoulder lightly when he laughed. Lying down, she rested her head on her hands and admitted, "Yes, though that's not always a good thing. It makes me want those years back, and to think I never really appreciated what I had, back then. I regret that."

He swallowed at the raw honesty in her voice. "Here," he said, and he offered her a picnic basket. "I was meant to go with Nunnally, but, well, she fell sick and she told me to go without her."

"I hope she gets better," she said gently. He nodded, setting the snacks out and pulling out a picnic blanket, and Euphemia's lips curled into a smile. "Did you cook them yourself?" she wondered, giggling lightly.

"Some," he admitted. She blinked, almost shocked, and he winked, "It won't kill you, I promise."

"I sure hope not," she teased. "Otherwise, _someone_ will have to explain to Cornelia how I managed to eat food poisoning with, for all she knows, a stranger, and I certainly can't do it myself if I'm six feet under."

"An effective threat," he hummed, pretending to shudder. "After all, who wants to evoke the wrath of the mighty Cornelia?"

"Not me," she threw out with a laugh as she reached over and grabbed a sandwhich while he laid out the blanket underneath them, and pulled a second blanket over their bodies. "Thanks, Lulu," she sighed, and relaxed into the warmth.

He just smiled and poured himself a glass of juice. "That's why I come here," he said after a while, breaking the silence between them. She looked up at him without turning her head and arched one eyebrow questioningly. He chuckled. "Because it reminds me of Aries Villa," he clarified. "It reminds me of my mother, of nights of stargazing with you and the others."

"My best memories are of us stargazing," she whispered.

He chewed on his sandwich and swallowed it down. "Mine are, too," he agreed.

 _Of course those are my best memories,_ he thought dryly. _Those memories, after all, don't include the pungent stench of burning flesh, or the unforgettable sight of rotting bodies, or the threat of more to come. Stargazing never included running and looking over our shoulders, never knowing if we were safe. It never included hiding away from the family you thought you had._

Those few moments he remembered he'd experienced as a child were the only things reminding him of what he used to have, and what he used to be. A son. A brother to many.

"If I could turn back time," she said, voice heavy and exhausted, "that's when I would go back to. Stargazing."

He ate another bite of his sandwich, tasting misery instead of vegetables or meat. "We have the next best thing," he told her. "We should stargaze, tonight."

"I would love that," she said. "I really do miss doing that. A few months after we heard you two were dead, Cornelia asked me—she invited Clovis and I to come with her to Aries Villa, to stargaze and wish upon the stars. Falling stars, if there should be any. She said she wanted to honor your memory. Clovis agreed, but I…" she trailed off, turning away from his gaze and sobbing. "I couldn't. Every time I stargazed, it was with you. How could I do it without you next to me, pointing out all of the constellations to me?"

She paused, and in the middle of her sniffles, he commented halfheartedly, "I never thought you liked hearing about those."

"Of course I did," she said sharply. "It… it would have been horrible, without you. I didn't want to do it without you—it would only make your death more real. At the end, I didn't go. I told my sister I was feeling sick, and insisted she just go with Clovis."

"I'm sorry." He released a ragged breath. "I want to go back to that, too. I want to have you beside me, and I want to be able to hold your hand and guide you to all the stars. I don't want it to be under this illusion, while I hide behind my new name."

"One day," she promised.

"One day," he agreed, clinging onto it desperately. "You should become empress," he joked lightly. "Then there'd be no reason for fighting."

"No reason for Zero?" she asked quietly, and he nodded.

She sighed. She finished eating her last sandwich and adjusted her position so she could see the sky. "If there are any falling stars, will you make a wish?"

"Yes."

"What will you wish for?" Her voice was small and afraid again, as if she was still a child, and it made him miss Aries Villa and their childhood even more.

He hesitated. "I don't know yet," he said finally. _I'll wish for you,_ he thought.

"I don't, either," she whispered. _I want us._

There were no falling stars to wish upon, but they still made their wishes, gazing up at the endless stretch of black. They wished to the Gods, to the stars dotting their vision, and to each other.

And then their eyes opened and he turned to face her. In her eyes, he saw a reflection of his own—wanting, longing, begging. He focused on what he could see and he ignored everything else—and he kissed her.

He sensed her surprise, at first, but he smiled into her lips when she kissed back. It was everything he had ever dreamed of. Everything he had ever wished for. It was the one thing Zero couldn't give him.

When they parted, she smiled, and he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. He traced their names onto her stomach and toyed around with her hair. He kissed her again. "I've always loved you," he murmured as he drew away.

"I've always loved you, too," she whispered, and he felt her breath on his lips caressing him and kissing him again and again.

* * *

' _They fell in love under the thin covers of a picnic blanket. It was here, with stars showering upon them from the inky sky, that the boy chose to push his luck and risk it all. He pressed his lips to hers, and she pressed back. He found happiness in her eyes as she beamed up at him, and in her beating heart that thundered below his. He realized what love was when he looked at her smile, at her trust, at her bliss. Here, they forgot the bounds of society—bounds set by their father, bounds set by his banishment, and her status. They ignored the rules they were breaking, and they fell in love, picnic basket long forgotten._ '

This, he imagined, was what he would tell people if they should ask him how he and a beautiful, renowned princess had found each other amidst a warring world.

He would tell them of how she had saved him from himself. Of how it had been her who had accepted him when he could only feel hatred. How it had been her to pull him from the abyss he'd been spiraling deeper into.

He would imagine her lips on his and smile because he had reason to be happy.

 _And this,_ he would think, _is the tale of Euphemia li Britannia and Lelouch Lamperouge._ Because Lelouch vi Britannia was dead.

* * *

 **six**

"Something's on your mind," C.C. accused after he was distracted and he stopped talking about their plans for the Black Knights for the second time. She slammed shut his laptop, which displayed the newest recruits for the Black Knights, and she crossed her arms defiantly. "What is it?"

He glared at her and reached to flip open his laptop again, only for her hand to catch his and stop him before he could. "It's nothing," he denied with a hiss. "Now let's go back to the discussion."

"You haven't been focusing the entire time we've been talking about this," she said calmly. "Clearly, there's something bothering you."

"Well, you're wrong; there isn't," he snapped.

She scoffed. "I'm never wrong, boy," she sneered. "Remember that." She pushed herself off the bed and walked toward his desk, arms clasped around her Cheese-kun doll. "Now, what is it?"

"I told you," he said. "It's nothing."

"If it was nothing, you wouldn't be acting like this," she countered, unfazed. She picked up a pen and pointed at a framed picture of him and the Student Council. "Is it one of them?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and stayed stubbornly close-lipped, refusing to answer.

She rolled her eyes at his silence. "No, then," she deduced. "It can't be about the Black Knights, because we were discussing them when you kept drifting off into thought. So... your sister, Nunnally?" she guessed.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Can't we just—"

"Be quiet," she said, waving him off. Her eyes darted around the room, and a smile crawled onto her lips. "Could it be because of your _other_ sister? The one who visited Ashford, just the other day?"

He tensed.

Her smile widened. "It is, isn't it?"

He gritted his teeth and looked away wordlessly.

"Why?" she prodded, despite his insistence at remaining quiet. "What happened with her?"

He huffed.

"Is this _still_ about the Specially Administrated Zone of Japan?" she wondered, and when he didn't react, she blinked. "No?"

"C.C., you're wasting both our times," he sighed. "Let's get back on track."

"No, _you're_ wasting our time by not answering me," she corrected. "I will continue to do this until you say something, you know."

"Why?"

"I'm your accomplice, remember? I'm supposed to help you deal with things like this," she reminded him.

He snorted with laughter. "It has nothing to do with the Black Knights."

"I became your accomplice since before the formation of the Black Knights," she countered. He stayed silent, and she was reminded of the Aries Villa, and times when Marianne would send for her to meet there. She was reminded of a young, stubborn, purple-eyed boy who scowled when his two sisters, Nunnally and Euphemia, whined and begged him to play with them.

She laughed. "You're joking," she said.

He eyed her as if she'd grown a second head.

Her jaw dropped. "You're not?" she asked in disbelief. "Is this because you've _fallen_ for your half-sister?"

His eyes widened and his mouth snapped open, as if to argue, but no words left him and his mouth silently slid shut again.

She shook her head in exasperation. "The great Zero, in love with his enemy?"

He squinted at her. "Technically, she's not my _enemy,_ per se. She's only the daughter."

"You're making _excuses_ for her, now? I distinctly remember that you are the killer of Clovis—who, need I remind you, was _only the son,_ " she mocked.

"...he deserved it. She doesn't," he said finally. "She hasn't done anything."

She blinked once, and then twice. "You... you really do love her, don't you?"

He said nothing, flicking open his laptop and logging in, but she knew the answer. She saw it in his eyes, in the way he'd stiffened, in the way he'd smiled—just slightly—and in his voice.

Later on, after he'd turned in and he laid on the bed in slumber, she logged into his laptop and searched Euphemia up, determined to find out exactly who she was, and why she mattered to him. He was her accomplice, after all. She _should_ understand him, she reasoned, unaware of Lelouch's dreams as he slipped in and out of consciousness.

 _"Euphie," he gasped._

 _She smiled and swam toward him. "Lulu," she murmured, and he chuckled as her long hair tickled him. "Let's go."_

 _"Go... where?"_

 _"Anywhere," she whispered throatily. "Everywhere. Let's go out into the world," she declared, all wide-eyed and smiling as she imagined it._

 _He laughed. "Let's go," he agreed. "I'll go anywhere, if it's with you."_

 _She beamed at him, and in the water, her hand searched for his. She laced her fingers with his and tugged him further out into the sea. "It's waiting for us."_

 _"And what is 'it'?" he asked, his eyes devouring the sight of her as she glided through the water in front of him, her pink hair dragging behind the rest of her._

 _"Who knows?" she answered, glancing back at him. Her eyes invited him to follow her, and so he smiled as he swam after her. "Let's find out."_

He gasped as he awoke and Euphie slipped out of his grasp, but he thought of C.C., wondered if she was already asleep, and relaxed on the bed again, falling quiet. A glimmer of light in the dark room drew his attention to his desk, and turned slightly to see a curtain of green hair covering the majority of his laptop screen. He tilted his head in curiosity and saw a touch of pink and purple decorating the screen.

He thought of Euphie, and of them, and he closed his eyes again, welcomed by her smile.

 _"You're here," she said gratefully. She stood from her perch on the swing, and she extended an arm out to him. "I'm glad."_

 _"Of course I'm here," he said quietly, and he accepted her hand. She pulled him forward and gestured at the swing beside hers, and together they sat down, swinging idly._

 _Her hands grabbed the chains on either side of her, feeling the wind as it pushed through her hair. "I've missed you," she said, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the chain. "Home isn't the same without you."_

 _"You should come with me," he said, voice cracking. "You'd love Japan. And Japan would love you."_

 _"I wish I could," she whispered, beginning to cry. "I want to. I don't want you to leave me again."_

 _"I won't," he said. "We'll always have here to come back to."_

 _"But it's not enough," she said. "Not for me."_

 _"You know I can't come back," he murmured, but he heard her sob and he wished he could take it back. "I'm not welcome there, not anymore."_

 _"You're welcome at Cornelia's and my place," she pleaded. "You'll always be welcome there. With me."_

 _"I'm sorry," he said reluctantly, voice small. "You know I can't."_

 _"But why?"_

The bed shifted under C.C.'s weight as she carefully climbed on and slipped under the covers, and he cracked one eye open as Euphie was torn away from him, yet again. He saw the green of C.C.'s hair and the yellow of her Cheese-kun through his peripheral vision, and he closed his eyes as he begged for Euphie to return.

Slowly, sleep claimed him again.

 _"It's beautiful."_

 _"It is, isn't it?" he asked rhetorically, eyes dragging around the familiar garden. "Mother always loved it."_

 _"So did I," she reminded him. "And Nunnally. I remember that even you used to love it."_

 _"I still do," he said wistfully. "I wish we could all be together again."_

 _"Me, too," she sighed. She grabbed him and led him out into another section of the gardens, one that he remembered instantly. She smiled and pushed him down onto the grass, and she followed and laid down beside him soon after._

 _They gazed up at the stars that loomed far above them, mingling in a sea of inky black, and she breathed out a dreamy sigh. "It looks exactly the same, up there."_

 _He agreed. "Unlike down here," he whispered, but she heard it and her fingers tightened around his. He flinched and amended, "This reminds me of when we were younger... we used to do this almost every night."_

 _She laughed. "My mother hated that I was always getting my dresses dirty," she recalled. "Cornelia loved that I enjoyed spending time here, at the Aries Villa her idol lives in, so much. And I... I just loved being here. These stars remind me of what I will always have."_

 _"And what's that?"_

 _She turned so that she was lying down on her side, and she winked at him. "You."_

He bit back a frustrated groan when he woke up for the third time. He turned away from C.C., and he stared out the window, at the crescent moon.

He fell asleep like that, imagining Euphie as she laughed and danced and twirled around on the surface of the moon.

He dreamed of her again.

 _"Have I ever told you that I love you?" he breathed out as he rolled around to face her. Nunnally laid asleep on the other side of him, and Cornelia guarded Euphemia even as she slept beside them, but he didn't care. He couldn't care. All he could see was the look on her face._

 _She nodded, breath caught. "Yes," she answered. "So many times. A hundred times in daylight. A million times in my dreams."_

 _"Then I'll say it again," he said. "I love you. God, I love you so much it hurts. And every time I see you, I fall in love with you more and more. What if I love you forever?"_

 _She smiled up at him, and he couldn't help but think that it was a sight even more breathtaking than the view of the stars from his mother's garden. "That'd be perfect, because I—"_

He woke up before he could hear her say it back. _Please,_ he begged—to the Gods and to himself.

He squeezed his eyes shut and imagined her as she laid beside him on their picnic blanket, hair splayed out all around her. He remembered the way she'd closed her eyes and exhaled in giddy satisfaction as he drew away from her after their kiss, and he remembered the feel of her hair as he played with the locks.

He remembered whispering, _"I've always loved you."_

And he remembered hearing, _"I've always loved you, too."_

* * *

 **five**

She called the phone, one day. He'd never given her his number, so she didn't call _his_ phone, but he was working in the Student Council meeting room with the others, one day, when the phone rang.

He was closest to it, so he sighed and picked it up. "Hello, you have reached the Ashford Academy Student Council," he greeted into the phone, reciting with practiced ease.

"Lelouch?"

He froze. Frantically, his eyes darted around, and when he saw his fellow Student Council members glancing at him curiously, he winced and answered quietly, "Esse."

She laughed in relief. "Oh, thank God, you answered."

He paused. "You know that this is the school phone, right?"

"Of course!" she answered indignantly, and he rolled his eyes. "I asked Suzaku for it, so if I called and it turned out that someone else picked up the phone, I can always pretend I called for Suzaku and make something up."

"God, you're so risky," he mumbled under his breath; she heard him and laughed. "So, why did you call?"

"To hear your voice."

He almost laughed. He stifled his amusement and masked his voice so that she thought he was irritated, "…Is that the only reason?" But he couldn't hide the smile on his face and he missed the way Shirley and Milly exchanged a glance.

"No. I wanted to ask you something."

"So what did you want to ask me?"

"When do you finish your Student Council work?"

He blinked. He looked at Milly and asked, "How much longer do we have?"

Milly, still wide-eyed, answered dazedly, "An hour and a half."

He turned away from her and back to the conversation at hand. "There you have it," he replied. "I'll be off in one hour and thirty minutes."

"Perfect!" she sang. "Meet me at the park?"

She didn't even have to specify which park. He knew right away. "Got it," he said, and the grin on his face shocked them all. "Later."

He hung up and walked back to his chair, unaware of the tension in the air. Finally, when he pulled out his chair and sat again, Rivalz burst out, "Holy crap! What the hell was that, _Lulu_?"

Lelouch blinked and stared at him, puzzled. "What the hell was what?"

"Firstly, you never smile! Not like that, at least. Secondly, who on Earth was Esse?" Rivalz paused, seemed to realize something, and added hastily, "Lastly, you didn't even correct me when I called you Lulu! Seriously, since when did you answer personal calls using the Student Council phone?"

"Since now, I suppose," he answered with a shrug. His eyes narrowed into a cutting gaze. "Is there a problem?"

Rivalz looked like he wanted to say something, but Milly noticed that Lelouch's smile and his effortless joy had faded, so she stepped in with a hurried, "There's no problem at all." It was rare that she saw him happy, after what had happened seven years ago, and she just wanted to see it again. The look in his eyes when he had nothing to burden him.

* * *

He waited at the back of their oak tree (why was he calling it theirs?) until he could _feel_ her behind him. She reached up and loosely wrapped her arms around him, tip-toeing until she could comfortably rest her head in the crook of his neck. "You made my friends suspicious of me, you know," he accused lightheartedly.

"Like you're not suspicious enough already," she breathed into him. She smiled teasingly and added, "Or are you saying that I'm not worth their suspicion?"

He laughed. "Oh, believe me, you're worth more than _that_. I've chosen you, Euphie, and you should know that my priorities are always that: priorities."

"Good," she whispered. "Because I've chosen you, too."

He didn't know why she felt the need to whisper—this corner of the park belonged to _them—_ but it made his heart leap to his throat and he swiveled around, catching her eyes and the unfathomable sea inside them—it reminded him of infinity. He grabbed her by the waist and, almost instinctively, his lips sought hers.

She gave in quickly and laughed through their kiss. "I like this side of you," she chortled. He hummed noncommittally and kissed her again. He kept kissing her, taking breaks every few seconds and returning to her with more and more insistence until she rolled her eyes, conceded with a mutter under her breath, and pulled him down by the front of his shirt. She initiated the kiss, this time, and he smiled.

"I like every side of you," he murmured so that she could hear him. She jolted and tried not to blush. "Even the sides I haven't yet seen."

She kissed the corner of his lips, moving away from him while keeping their eyes locked. Her stare, on him, drew him to her until she was dragging him to the lake, so close that the water lapped at their toes and rippled softly beneath them. "You've always had a silver tongue," she said wistfully.

"Stop with that," he chided with a small grin. "We're making new memories, after all. No need to dwell on the 'used-to-be' anymore."

"Of course." She beamed at him and her eyes darted briefly to the lake. "New memories, right?" she echoed. She closed her eyes and, when she could feel him melting in front of and around her—she had always watched for when he relaxed his guard—she pushed him swiftly into the water.

His eyes widened and his mouth snapped open to let out an ear-shattering scream, only to be cut off when he pierced through the peaceful lake with a splash. He stayed under for what felt like an eternity before he finally came up for air, spluttering indignantly. "Y-You insufferable—! Oh, you are _so_ on," he hissed. His eyes sparkled with anger, the kind of anger that bred vengeance and chaos, but she saw the brightness on his face and her smile widened.

* * *

 **four**

"I've never seen you this happy before," Milly said conversationally, walking in on him laughing on the phone.

He stopped abruptly, his chuckles trailing to a stop. "Hold on for a second, E."

"Yes, my prince," she joked, and though usually he hated reminders of his heritage, it wasn't a reminder when she said it. He smiled softly. It was just her, and their new fairytale.

Covering the phone so Euphie couldn't hear, he faced Milly, still smiling. "I guess not," he admitted with a shrug.

She smiled at him. "I'm glad. To see you happy, I mean." _Even if I'm not the one making you laugh,_ she added silently. "I should go. Don't want to interrupt you, after all." He nodded absentmindedly, and she tried to brush off the pain at the distance in his eyes. He used to tell her everything. She shivered, told herself she was being selfish, and walked away.

"Milly!" he called out, and she almost stumbled over herself in her attempt to come to a stop. She was surprised at the desperation and fear on his face. "Is this… is this okay?" he asked quietly, almost timidly. Her eyes widened. He saw her shock and raced to explain, "I mean, so many people are suffering, even right now. My mother's dead. My sister, crippled and blinded. And I'm… I'm just happy. Is that wrong?"

Her face contorted with horror and anger. "Of course it's not wrong!" she insisted, so loudly and sharply that he flinched and looked away. Her gaze softened and she repeated herself, "Of course not. Lelouch, you aren't responsible for any of the Japanese you want to save. You aren't responsible for those who've died. You have every right to laugh. It's been too long since you have."

He smiled weakly. _But I_ am _responsible. I'm Zero. Maybe C.C. was right. Zero shouldn't be falling in love with his enemy. Zero is an ideal. He is a revolutionary. A vigilante, not a lovestruck fool. He can't be, not if he wants to save the Japanese._

"It's a relief to see you smile again," Milly whispered, and he swallowed thickly.

When she was gone, he held his phone to his ear again. "Hey," he said gently. "You still there?"

"Of course," Euphie answered quickly, so happy and innocent that his gut churned. "What's wrong? You sound off."

He winced. She had always been able to notice the littlest details. She had always been the one to grab his hands and tell him to rest, because they needed him. He made a breathless, gasping sound, and he wasn't sure if he was laughing or crying. "I'm fine," he said.

"Lulu—"

"I'm fine," he repeated. _Yes,_ he thought, _maybe I am Zero. But not right now. Right now, I'm just a student._ "I love you, Euphie," he said earnestly, and the gasp of delight from the other end of the line assured him that, though it might not be the right move for Zero, it was for Lelouch.

"…I love you, too, Lulu. Always remember that."

"I will," he said, clutching the phone tightly. The bell rang, and he moved towards his classroom mindlessly. "I have to go. But I'll call you back, I promise."

"I'll be waiting." Her voice was small and full of need, and he found himself falling for her all over again.

He listened to her breathing, in awe at it all, and though they were silent, he waited until he was inside the classroom to hang up. If anyone had paid close attention, they would have noticed the faraway look in his eyes and the way his hand never strayed too far from his phone.

* * *

 **three**

It was Nina who brought it up, one day. "Is anyone going to the Specially Administrated Zone of Japan?"

Lelouch's eyes widened, reminded of it. "If I can," he answered finally. But he had to be there as Zero, he knew. He had to, for Euphie.

"Really?" Nina asked, stunned. "I mean, that's great. I will, too. I think it's a great thing, what Princess Euphemia is doing."

He smiled at her and tried to ignore the way she smiled and sighed dreamily at the thought of the pink-haired princess. "Yes," he agreed. "It's a great thing."

"You're going, Lulu?" Milly demanded, her voice slightly accusatory. She shot him a pointed look, a little panicked. "Are you sure?"

He hesitated. "We should support something like this," he said finally. "If it can really bring peace, it'd be a start, at least. An act worth standing behind."

She bit her lip. "I guess you're right," she said, but her voice was thick with hesitation and he could see the way she tried to communicate with him silently. He knew what she was thinking.

"It does sound admirable," Shirley agreed. "I'd love to go. What about you guys?"

"I'll be there as her knight, of course," Suzaku said. "Princess Euphemia really is amazing. She wants the best for everyone."

Kallen's lips pursed. "And how would you know that?" she demanded angrily.

Suzaku blinked, rearing back in surprise. Lelouch sighed and inwardly cursed her for risking her cover. "I'm her knight," Suzaku said after a while, his eyes narrowed in determination and something else—something unreadable—that made Lelouch's gut clench. "All she seeks is peace, Kallen. And she's doing her best to achieve that peace, little by little."

Lelouch looked away uncomfortably. As Euphemia's brother... he _knew_ she was only trying to unite them all. But as Zero, he couldn't just want to accept that because of his personal relationship with her. He had to think of the Black Knights, of Japan, of everyone who'd be affected by her plan.

* * *

 **two**

The color of his eyes burned her. Over and over, his green stabbed her purple and reminded her of what she was doing—rather, of what she _wasn't_ doing. Hair tickled her neck, sweeping around her and caging her inside the space between them. Brown danced in front of her blurring vision. "Suzaku—" she panted.

"Euphie," he whispered against her skin. His voice set her aflame all over again.

She swallowed thickly. His fingers pressed against her torso, pinning her against his couch.

"Euphie," he pleaded, and the green of his eyes was all she could see.

Green. Green, green, green. _No,_ she thought. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself and regain some measure of control when purple swam before her eyes and overtook the green. Her eyes snapped open with a gasp. _No._

What was she doing? What was she _doing_? She tried to wrestle away, but in the end her arms failed her and she succumbed to the weakness of her desire.

"Euphie," Suzaku groaned, desperate.

 _"Euphie,"_ a soft whisper echoed Suzaku's. Euphemia flinched. _"Euphie."_

His voice was a familiar memory. A memory of home. And this...

 _"Euphie."_

 _She smiled up at him through her exhaustion. She struggled to keep her eyes open. "Lulu," she murmured, giggling._

 _He grinned back and ducked his head down until their lips met._

This wasn't home. _No. Lulu..._ She looked up, and a sea of green met her gaze. _Suzaku._

 _"I've always loved you," he whispered._

 _She didn't even hesitate. "I've always loved you, too."_

When had that happened? It felt like a lifetime ago. She dragged her fingers over her face, remembering and _feeling_ Lelouch's hands there. When had she last told him she loved him? _I've always loved you, too,_ she'd told him. And she'd meant it. She always would.

"Euphie," Suzaku breathed. " _Euphie_."

She shuddered and met his eyes. "Suzaku," his name fell from her lips. _No,_ she thought. _Lelouch._ She—she couldn't. _Come on,_ she begged herself. _All it takes is one word._ All she had to say was no. _No, stop_ — "Suzaku," she whimpered. "Suzaku." His hands on her was all her could think of. His touch, warm, warm, hot—

 _"You're my princess," he laid claim, grabbing her by the hands and pulling her close. "Mine."_

 _His body muffled her laugh. "Yours," she echoed._

—cold.

 _No. Euphie, stop. Tell him to stop. Stop, stop, stop_ —

Lelouch stared back at her, betrayal in his eyes. The same eyes she'd looked into a thousand times before—no, a million. The same eyes she'd stared at as she told him _I love you._ God, she loved his eyes.

But not like that. Not when he looked at her as though she was the reason for his exile, for his suffering, for his death. As though he'd rather let their father do to him as he pleased over loving her.

 _Lelouch, please. I love you._

He disappeared like ash. Like her memories, fading into dust because of what she was doing. Because of what she was _letting_ herself, letting Suzaku, do.

 _"Maybe I'll love you forever," he mused. His words sent butterflies soaring through her stomach. "Is that okay? Can you stand me forever?"_

 _"Longer than forever."_

Every word he'd told her, every word _she'd_ told _him_ —gone.

 _"I like every side of you. Even the sides I haven't yet seen."_

She choked. He'd told her that, hadn't he? _Every side of you._ And what would he say now, if he could see her like this? If he could see her with Suzaku?

 _I—I can't—no—_

"I love you." Suzaku's voice was nothing but a growl, sinking into her flesh. "I love you. Euphie. I—"

 _I'm sorry—so sorry—I love you, Le—_

"Suzaku." His name lingered on her tongue. Her voice was a command, a request. _I can't, I have to stop, I—can't stop._ An apology. "I love you."

She gave in.

* * *

 **one**

Her brows furrowed, Nunnally asked, "Where's Suzaku, do you think? He hasn't come to eat with us in so long..."

Lelouch frowned, making a note to scold Suzaku for making Nunnally so worried, and replied soothingly, "I'm sure he's just busy with the military."

"That's what I'm concerned about," she murmured. "He's Euphie's knight. Do you think something could have happened to her to keep him there for so long?"

His frown deepened and a pang of fear lanced through him. Euphie, hurt? "I'll go search for him now," he decided. "Have Sayoko prepare dinner for three tonight."

Her face brightened and she smiled up at him, lovingly. "Thank you, I'll do that. I love you, big brother."

His gaze softened, just slightly. As soon as she was out of his sight, rolling herself toward the kitchen where Sayoko likely was, however, his scowl returned to his face and he turned on his heel, stalking out of the room. He would have to remind Suzaku of what happened to those who upset his little sister.

 _Nunnally's right, though; what could be keeping him away for so long?_ For a moment, his anger dimmed and his worry spiked. _Maybe he's just drowning in homework,_ he tried to reason, _I'll ask Rivalz. They're dorm-mates, after all—maybe he knows something._

Unsurprisingly, he found Rivalz in the Student Council room, slaving over paperwork despite the hour. Rivalz was always seeking for ways to impress Milly, if not please her, and he'd figured working more would, at the very least, catch her attention.

"Rivalz, hey!" Lelouch approached him at the desk, putting on a smile for his friend's sake.

"Lelouch!" Rivalz's head snapped up to face him and he lit up, a bright smile drawing itself onto his face when he saw who it was.

Lelouch tried to emulate his cheer, but found he couldn't. Although he had initially planned to find a topic to begin with, and then weave in the subject of Suzaku, it was getting late and he didn't want to keep Nunnally waiting, so eventually, he decided to plunge straight in: "Do you know where Suzaku is?"

Rivalz blinked.

"He's your roommate, come on, Rivalz," Lelouch urged. "Where has he been?"

"What... do you mean?" Rivalz asked, confused. "He hasn't missed a day of school; what's got you so worried?"

"It's hard to explain," Lelouch said, frustrated. "Does he go anywhere after hours?"

After a moment of tense silence, Rivalz shook his head, almost uncertainly. "No," he said. "He's always been at the dorm." His hand darted into his pockets and he dropped his keys into Lelouch's hands, explaining, "Here. If you want to check up on him."

Lelouch nodded, not pleased but satisfied. "Okay, thanks, Rivalz." He bit his lip, his eyes sweeping over Rivalz draped over the chair in exhaustion, and advised, "Maybe paperwork isn't the way to go; you're just tiring yourself out, Rivalz."

Rivalz's eyes narrowed at him. "But I have to get her attention somehow!" He leapt up, grabbing Lelouch by the collar and yanking him down so they were eye-to-eye. "Please, man! You knew the Prez when you two were children, right? Help me!" he begged, eyes enlarged and—Lelouch's own eyes widened in surprise—watery.

"I guess," Lelouch admitted reluctantly. "But she never seemed to show any attention to anyone, even as a little girl."

Rivalz released him, his hand flying to his head in desperation. "You don't think she—" he shuddered, spared Nina—who was working at her computer, as always—a wary glance and lowered his voice to a whisper, "—swings the other way, do you?"

Leloucu choked on air, trying to suppress his laughter. He doubted Rivalz would appreciate amusement at a time like this. _Honestly? Yes, yes I do._ "Of course not," he lied smoothly, smiling as reassuringly as he could manage. "I think maybe she just feels too pressured; I heard her parents are pushing her to restore their nobility."

"Restore their... nobility?" Rivalz repeated, his jaw dropping in horror as realization sunk in. "You mean like—like arranged marriage?"

Lelouch nodded solemnly. _If only I had more power, I would be able to save her from her fate. She's my friend; I_ should _be able to._ His jaw shifted. "Yes, exactly like that."

Rivalz collapsed back onto his chair, limbs flailing as he covered his eyes and sagged in defeat. "No, why!? Why, Lelouch..."

Lelouch smiled sympathetically. He, more than anyone, knew how much his friend worshipped the very ground Millicent Ashford walked upon—Rivalz had ranted to him on many an occasion. "The Court is like that," he said vaguely, "A lion's den. To be wrapped up in politics is to be surrounded by lies and manipulations and people who'd do anything to advance in society."

Rivalz's eyes widened in surprise, having never really heard Lelouch, who he thought he knew so well, speak like that before. "Lies, huh?" he muttered under his breath.

Lelouch just nodded, turning around to leave. "I have to go now. Good luck with Milly, Rivalz."

"Thanks..." Rivalz said miserably, staring off into the distance as he sulked, still feeling a little sullen.

The slight smile on Lelouch's face faded as he left Rivalz's company, reminded of the reality that, if he was still a prince, maybe he could offer Milly some help. Now, though, as a mere schoolboy, he had no way to aid her. _I'm sorry, Milly. Still, maybe..._

He turned the corner toward Rivalz and Suzaku's shared dorm, drifting into thought—the image of a certain pink-haired girl flitted into mind; while he might no longer be royalty, she was a princess, wasn't she? Just as he began to perk up, the edges of his lips quirking into the beginnings of a smile, he inserted the key into its lock and twisted, pushing open the door—

—and he froze, the hand which had been resting on the doorknob falling to his side silently as his eyes, colored with horror and fear and misunderstanding, drank in the sight before him.

Because there, locked in a passionate embrace under the covers of Suzaku's bunk, were Suzaku, and a familiar vision of curly roseate hair.

His heart dove through his stomach and sunk to his knees, rising, swimming, begging—falling again. _And just when I was thinking of coming to her for Milly, too..._ He gulped down what he refused to acknowledge were tears—he gulped down the future he'd envisioned with her—and managed to croak out, "Why?"

The two he'd caught interlocked sprung apart as if caught red-handed—which, he mused, was close enough to the truth—and Suzaku jolted to his feet beside the bed, eyes darting to fixate on him.

 _At least he's still fully clothed,_ a part of him whispered venomously at the back of his mind and he hastily pushed it away. _That doesn't matter,_ he thought angrily, _their betrayal is clear enough._

"Lelouch?" Suzaku wondered, blinking, and at the sound of his name, her head peeked out of the covers to stare at him through timid lavender eyes. She sucked in a hard breath at the sight of him and trembled, squeezing her eyes tightly shut and burying herself in the— _Suzaku's,_ Lelouch reminded himself bitterly—blanket.

"To think I was worried about you," Lelouch bit out, lips curling into a horrid snarl.

Suzaku faltered, surprised at the heat in his voice. "It isn't what it looks like, I swear!" he insisted instantly, and then flinched and stopped himself when he saw Lelouch arch a disbelieving eyebrow. "Okay, so it is," he amended hesitantly, "but I swear I'm going to take care of her."

"...what?" Lelouch hissed.

"Please," Suzaku begged. "I love her, and I know she's your sister, so you have a right to be protective, but—"

"Shut up," Lelouch interrupted in a harsh, cutting whisper, his heart thundering loudly as, slowly, understanding flared in him. His blood roared in his ears, thrumming as he gripped onto the doorframe tightly, so tightly his knuckles whitened, to center himself and keep his feet on the ground. "Just shut up."

Because _Suzaku didn't know_.

And the realization crushed him.

"But—"

"Don't try to make it better, because you're only making this worse," he snapped, the chains restraining himself breaking and bending, because at something like this, how _could_ he keep himself caged?

He paused, letting his gaze drift from Suzaku to the familiarly shaped lump on his bed—he tried to ignore how familiar her body looked, because it only served as a reminder of what he'd thought he had. "My apologies for interrupting," he said finally, clearing his throat and whirling around rapidly.

He didn't bother telling Suzaku that Nunnally missed him—he hated disappointing his sister, but right now, he doubted he could stand eating with the man who'd stolen his Euphie right from under his nose. And as despicable as it made him, in this moment, he forgot the very reason why he'd come here. All that mattered was what laid before him, plainly, undeniably.

"Good day to the both of you," he snarked, feeling the words sting even as he said them.

"Wait!" He paused mid-step, his heart spasming violently in his chest for a moment at the sound of her voice, and lowered his half-raised foot. "Please, Lulu, if you'll let me explain..."

"What is there to explain?" he asked, smiling coldly. He waited silently for her to say something else— _anything_ else.

"I'm sorry. Please..."

His teeth gritted. What right did she have to be sorry? "Goodbye, Your Highness," he called out disdainfully, the formal _your highness_ feeling like poison on his tongue, but—

He jerked away and slammed the door close behind him.

That was the last time he was ever letting anyone into the guarded walls of his heart, he thought and wept silently.

 _And this is the tale of Euphemia li Britannia and Lelouch Lamperouge,_ he thought bitterly.

The tale of how she'd flown in and lifted him off his feet as an angel would, only to drop him above a raging, turbulent sea that ripped him apart.

And to think he'd thought he'd gotten a fairytale.

* * *

 **zero**

"Master," Sayoko bowed low at the doorway. "There's someone here to see you."

He groaned and lifted his head to spare her a glance, wishing he could just wave her away, but he was reminded of Sayoko's and Nunnally's worried stares lingering on him when he'd returned the previous night and instantly headed to his room wordlessly—without even greeting Nunnally, which he never forgot to do—and halted. "Alright," he said finally, gathering his willpower and pushing himself off the comfort of his bed. "And Sayoko," he paused, hesitating, and pushed away his pride, "I'm sorry for the two dishes I left cold yesterday."

She smiled reassuringly at him, a motherly tinge entering her eye. "Please, do not concern yourself over it, Master Lelouch. I only hope you're feeling better today."

"I am, thank you," he said, the lie searing on his lips, but he ignored it and shrugged on his school jacket. "Is my sister awake?"

"Not yet, Master. I was just heading over to wake her."

He nodded silently, passing her on his way out. "Tell her I'm sorry I was unable to make it to dinner last night, would you, Sayoko?"

"Of course, Master Lelouch," she said, and when he heard the rustling of clothes he assumed she was bowing again. He smiled faintly at the thought of his sister and strode towards the door, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes—and shaking when he felt dampness on his cheeks.

He lowered his arm and did his best to calm himself, waiting until his heartbeat had slowed slightly before reaching out to open the door.

He realized, as his eyes feasted on shades of sakura, that all that calming was for nothing, and his hands curled into fists.

At his pointed silence, she bit her lip and reached out slowly. He flinched, staring at her hand blankly as if he didn't recognize it, and she winced, retracting her hand. "Lulu," Euphie— _no,_ he thought furiously, _Euphemia—_ said tentatively.

His eyes twitched. "What do you want?" he whispered, an underlying tone to his voice that spoke wonders.

She closed her eyes and shuddered for a few, silent seconds as he watched her with a sense of regret. When her eyes flew open once more, she smiled a teary smile, so full of remorse, at him and burst out, "I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking, I—"

"I wasn't thinking, too," he interjected, and she stared at him with wide, almost hopeful, eyes—perhaps she dared to believe he regretted his rash anger. His sad smile twisted into a grim frown and hers faded slowly. "I wasn't thinking when I believed we could ever amount to anything—when I believed _you_. I mean, who was I kidding? You're an imperial princess, and I'm just... I'm just a student. We were hopeless from the start."

"You're a prince, too," she pleaded, her voice cracking.

"No." His eyes darkened and his frown flattened into a thin line. "I have long since forsaken that title. I am nothing, now. We'd be better off as strangers."

"No," she choked out shakily, her trembling arms wrapping around herself as she tried to keep herself together—herself and the pieces that threatened to shatter and separate. "No. Don't say that. Anything but that— _please_."

"We'd be better off as strangers," he repeated, clearly and evenly so there was no mistaking his intention. "I was a fool to think we could ever work out in a world like ours, anyway. I am Zero, and you are the daughter of my greatest enemy."

"No. No, no, no, no, no!" she shouted desperately, wanting to take him into her arms and hold him forever so he could never escape her life. The last time she'd let go of him, he'd disappeared from her for seven years and she'd been wrapped in a blanket of grief. If he were to disappear again, especially now that she'd found love and a life with him... "No. Please, Lulu, no." The first tear exited her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, unchecked, as her dam began to crack.

He shook his head, wishing she could just leave, because despite what he'd seen, he still felt too much for her and he couldn't banish what hung heavy between them—even though he wanted to, so, so much. And if she stayed longer, stayed and stared at him with such devastation, he knew there was a chance he'd break and change his mind and he didn't want to subject himself to her will again. Not when she'd been able to hurt him so much after only having been together for a few weeks.

"Please... I'm so sorry, Lulu," she sobbed. Her eyes were finally brimming with tears that spilled over onto her porcelain cheeks, and they swarmed with a regret and guilt Lelouch barely recognised. He might have felt sorry for her, but in the heat of the moment, all he could feel was satisfaction—satisfaction that she was hurting like she'd hurt him.

She was his first love. The woman he had trusted and given his heart to. The heart she'd torn to pieces. She had no _right_ to cry when _he_ was hurting, suffering.

"Don't," he choked out, beginning to cry himself at her tears and the reality that what they had was dying. "Don't call me Lulu. Just— _don't_."

Her eyes filled with disbelief, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "But I—" she shook her head and instead said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"Yes," Lelouch agreed bitterly, trying to blink back his tears, "you shouldn't have. But the point of the matter is that you _did._ "

"Lulu…"

" _Stop it,_ " he snapped. "Only those who know me have the right to call me that. And you clearly don't." For a moment things were silent save for the hiccuping sobs of both of them, until Lelouch added as an afterthought, "And don't say sorry, either. If you really were sorry you wouldn't have done it in the first place."

"But I _am_ sorry. So sorry," Euphemia insisted sadly. "I didn't know what I was thinking. You don't deserve this."

 _No, I don't,_ he thought, but he didn't say that. Instead, he shook his head, and detachedly, he told her, "Please just leave. I—I need time. To think."

Her eyes widened and she swallowed, hearing his words. He'd _never_ shut her out like this before. Even when they had fought before, he was always courteous to her, and he always made time for her. _So selfless,_ she thought in sick realisation, _he was always so selfless, putting me before himself. And look what I did to repay him._ A fresh wave of guilt rolled through her stomach nauseously.

"Lulu, I—" Before she could finish her sentence, she stopped herself, seeing the utter agony in his expression. Still crying uncontrollably, she stepped backwards and watched as he slammed the door shut. The last thing she saw before she was separated from him were the tears he cried as he sank to the floor.

Sometimes, Euphie hadn't been sure if he had really loved her. Now, seeing his pain, she knew.

Too late, she knew.

* * *

 **A/N: Firstly, I apologize to any fans of Euphemia—to be honest, I completely love and admire her as a character, especially as a potential love interest for Lelouch (I mean, _come on,_ the way he thought 'You were the first girl I ever loved' as he shot her?)—I'm not trying to hate on her, even if that's what this came off as. Relationships aren't perfect, they're not even easy. I'm just trying to portray the real world. **

**I'm also sorry if Lelouch came off as OOC (well, how could he have _not_ come off as OOC?) but I kind of had to work with his character for this. He's a commander, not a lovesick boy, I know, but, well, anyone can fall in love, so. There is also so much more to their relationship (as there will be with the other relationships) which will be revealed in flashbacks and conversations in later chapters. And don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the SAZ, I have that planned for the next chapter. I'm still trying to decide whether Euphie should still get her canon fate or if she should somehow live, so feel free to give me any suggestions for that. That aside, I hope you enjoyed reading this. I'd love to get feedback, so I'd appreciate any reviews and PMs with comments or questions. I should have the second chapter/relationship up soon (really).**


	2. shirley

**I'm leaving my notes for the end of the chapter, so for now all I'll say is, well, I still don't own anything of Code Geass.**

* * *

 **we loved in colors**

 _ii: high school sweetheart_

* * *

She'd never wowed him the way others had. Her existence became merely repetition for him. Day in and day out, he was assured of her position in his life; he saw her as a continuity, a common occurrence. A constant.

He never saw her as anything more. She had never left a heart-stopping impact on him the way Euphemia had; never stopped him in his tracks one day with the realization that he needed her.

It was gradual in the way that she left her mark on his heart, and in his life.

* * *

 **thirteen**

"Where's Lulu?" Shirley wondered aloud.

Milly grinned widely. "Aw, is Shirley missing her darling beau?" Her eyes took on a mischievous sparkle, and she crooned, "Or, perhaps, is she longing for his warmth? Jealous that he's missing school at the same time as a certain someone else is?"

Shirley's cheeks blossomed with two twin, furious roses. "Madame Prez!" she shrieked in an embarrassed outrage. "You can't speak of such things!"

"In denial, are we?"

Shirley's jaw unhinged. "Lulu would never skip school for such indecent things!"

At Shirley's vehement defense, Milly's lips curled into a small, amused smile. "Of course," she laughed. "Your beloved Lulu would never, huh?"

Shirley practically growled in response, her anger, as well as her frustration for the blonde Student Council president, reaching new heights.

"But anyway," Milly said, her tone suddenly serious as her gaze hardened. Shirley blinked in surprise, stunned at the drastic change. She had never seen the lively, sly schoolgirl ever seem so grave before. "You're right," she admitted. "Lelouch—he's been missing school three days in a row now. And it's become quite clear that his disappearance has nothing to do with our redhead."

Shirley's own mood sobered at the reminder.

Milly turned to Rivalz quickly, "Hey, you're his best friend, aren't you? Has Lelouch shown any sign of sickness or anything similar?"

Rivalz frowned and shook his head. "No, I don't think so." His face soured as though he'd tasted something wholly unpleasant. "Although, I don't think you should call me his best friend. That title belongs to one Kururugi Suzaku."

Milly's eyes, which had been a piercing, calculating blue—reminding Rivalz all too much of Lelouch's words, _lion's den_ —softened with sympathy. "Rivalz," she started quietly, "Maybe it seems to you like they're the best of friends right now, but let me remind you that it was you who, when Lelouch had no one to turn to during his first years at Ashford, took up the mantle of his guide and best friend. And Lelouch, of all people, would never forget something like that."

Rivalz smiled weakly. "That's not true, Prez. He had you."

Milly laughed bitterly, her mind racing. Yes, she had always been his friend, but in reality, had she ever truly helped him? Even when she knew he'd been suffering—she'd always known—keeping all his grief to himself as he tried to be strong for his younger sister, she'd fled at the slightest hint of his coldness and left him to a maid who, by all means, should despise him for his heritage.

Even though he'd always pushed her away... she should have tried harder.

She knew she should have.

"No, Rivalz," she said firmly, locking away her regret. "You were always more of a friend than I ever have been."

He looked at her in surprise, perhaps more shocked at the truth in her voice than at her words themselves. He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "Still, Suzaku is much more his best friend than I am. Ever since Suzaku appeared... it's like I don't even exist anymore."

"Of course you exist!" Shirley, who had been staring back and forth between her two friends in speechless confusion, interjected heartily, brows furrowed into a frown. "Lelouch wouldn't be who he is without you."

Rivalz just shook his head. "I haven't talked, _really talked,_ to Lelouch in ages. And the last time he spoke to me, do you know what he said?"

"No, what?" Milly asked curiously.

He sighed dejectedly and admitted, "He came up to me and asked me where Suzaku was."

They both gasped.

"I mean, I get that they're friends, but he could have at least explained himself, you know? Tell me, 'now that Suzaku's here, I don't need you anymore, Rivalz.' Literally anything would be better than silence," he reasoned with audible annoyance. Startled, he glanced up and asked, flustered, "Do you think I'm being too irrational?"

"No." Milly said instantly. "That doesn't at all sound like the Lelouch I know." Milly frowned; _he at least would normally have better tact._

Rivalz smiled brightly at them both, but there was something bitter in his expression that made them swallow. "That's when I realized that the best friend of my best friend has never been me, and will never be me."

"Do you really think that?"

All three students jolted, startled by the youthful, timid voice that joined their conversation. Rivalz's eyes widened in horror when he looked behind him, only to be greeted by the sight of Lelouch's younger sister herself.

"Nunnally!" Rivalz practically shouted, heart leaping to his throat. "N-No, of course not," he reassured, stumbling over his own words. "It's just—well, I haven't been getting much sleep lately. I'm sorry."

A smile flashed on her face at his obvious lie, but she didn't point it out. Instead, she whispered, "My brother, he has a hard time, you know? So I'm really sorry if he isn't the greatest friend, and I know it's incredibly selfish of me to ask for such a huge favour, but I was hoping that you could forgive him for his faults."

Rivalz stared at her, honestly unable to find the words to reply.

Luckily, Milly stepped in for him. "Oh, Nunna," she cooed. "Please don't worry yourself about it. It's just Rivalz being Rivalz, you know. We're sure Lelouch is just being a concerned friend for Suzaku."

Rivalz grinned a little halfheartedly. Normally he'd whine about Milly's words, but he didn't want to upset Nunnally. Not only was she Lelouch's precious sister, but she also genuinely did not deserve it.

Nunnally's smile became more sincere. "Thank you, Milly." Despite her blindness, she managed to turn her head to face Rivalz directly. "About my brother asking for Suzaku... that was because of me entirely. I'm sorry."

Shirley gaped. "No, no, Nunna!" She jumped to soothe the young girl, who was quivering slightly. "I'm sure it wasn't your fault!"

"But it was," Nunnally whispered, face clouded with guilt. "I... I was worried about Suzaku. Usually, I ask my brother to invite him over for dinner at least once every few days, but recently, Suzaku's never been able to make it. So I asked my brother to see if Suzaku was okay, and I guess because you're his roommate, he figured you would know where he was."

"Oh," Rivalz said, dumbfounded. He flinched, feeling slightly guilty for being so upset with Lelouch, who was only following his sister's wishes.

Nunnally managed to regain her bearings and smile. "So, you see, it really isn't my brother's fault at all. Please don't blame him."

"Don't worry," he assuaged. "I don't."

Her smile became one of relief.

"Nunna," Shirley started. "We're really worried for Lelouch. Do you know why he hasn't been coming to school lately?"

Nunnally's happiness, small and brief as it was, vanished completely at Shirley's words. "He... he hasn't been feeling well," she said finally.

Milly blinked rapidly. "But he never gets sick!" _I swear, it must be a talent of royalty. Aside from the occasional cough, I've never seen you terribly ill either, Nana._

Nunnally nodded in agreement. "It's not the physical kind of sickness that can be cured," she explained vaguely.

Shirley sucked in a deep breath. "You mean he's—upset?" she wondered, confused.

"Upset?" she echoed. "Well, I would say that he is, yes." She wheeled herself closer in an imitation of leaning in. Milly, Shirley and Rivalz hurried to her side, frightened for Lelouch despite themselves; he was always in control of his feelings. If there was one word Shirley would use to describe him, it would be composed.

He never let anything affect him.

"I don't think my brother would like me telling you this, but, well, I think maybe you can help him where I cannot." She smiled mournfully. "A few days ago, when I asked him to find Suzaku for me, he promised me Suzaku would eat dinner together with us. Instead, neither of them showed up for dinner, and I ate alone."

Rivalz almost shuddered. Lelouch's love and adoration for Nunnally bordered on the possessive—nobody mattered more to him than the girl who was his sister.

What could it mean that he'd left her to eat by herself?

"The next day... he didn't show up for breakfast, either. Sayoko told me she found him crying in front of the door."

* * *

 **twelve**

When he found her—his ex, he mused bitterly, the term rolling around his mind with distaste—glancing around with surprising fondness, he had to calm his stampeding heart before he could approach her, schooling his expression into a resentful scowl. It was a scowl that should never have graced his face in her presence. Now, it was a scowl she caused.

She didn't turn from where she stood, facing the wall and admiring a picture of himself and his fellow Student Council members, but she seemed to know exactly who he was. "Lelouch," she whispered. He ignored the softness in her voice even as his chest tightened painfully.

"Your Highness," he returned in greeting, choosing not to comment on her visible flinch at his words. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

She finally glanced at him, and he was stunned to find tears in her eyes. He steeled himself, furiously locking away the part of him that longed to wipe them away. He had to remind himself that she wasn't his anymore.

She was his best friend's.

"Lelouch," she repeated. "I just came to apologize. That's all."

His brows furrowed and he parted his mouth to retort, the scathing words ready on his tongue even before he'd fully processed her statement.

She shook her head and cut him off quietly, "I know that nothing I say could ever make up for the pain I put you through, and I know that I won't ever be able to give you back the time and love I took away from you, but I'm sorry. I really am, Lelouch. And I... I was a fool. Through and through. I wasn't thinking—Cornelia always likes to tell me that it's what I do that lets people think of me as a puppet princess, and she's right. I never think. I'm sorry that it had to come to this."

He laughed dryly. "Like you said, no matter what you say, no matter how many times you apologize—none of that could make up for what you did. I loved you, Euphemia, I really did. And you repaid that love with betrayal."

She closed her eyes and turned away from him, hugging herself as if in denial. "Please. I'm sorry, Lelouch."

He continued as if she'd never apologized at all, "But thank you, Euphemia. Whatever else you did, you taught me one valuable lesson." He cracked a sarcastic smile and finished, "You taught me to never trust anyone else."

"Please," she begged, her voice and pitch wavering. "I still love you." She sounded hungry and desperate. "I always have. Even when we were younger, I loved you."

"Then _why_?" he yelled, his patience finally running thin at her insistence. (He had always had a volatile temper, she thought with a sad smile.) "Why would you do it? If you loved me? If you knew I loved you?"

"Because I let it get to my head!" she whimpered. "I let the moment overpower my love for you, my willpower, my rational line of thought. And I hate myself for it every single day."

"Willpower?" he wondered aloud, and then laughed again, sounding more broken with every second he stood in her company. "You know nothing of willpower." He thought of every man and woman he'd manipulated to his cause, everyone he'd wielded like weapons using his Geass, and he winced guiltily. He was no better than her.

 _But,_ he tried to console himself, even though he knew nothing could ever excuse or justify what he'd done, _at least I would never betray or use someone I love._

"Lelouch," she sobbed. "Please. If there's anything I can do, anything at all..."

"No amount of apologies, even if you say it a thousand, a _billion,_ times, could rewind time and make me foolish enough to ignore what's happened and forget."

"Anything, Lelouch," she pleaded.

"Are you even listening to me anymore?"

"Of course I am!" she protested. "But I love you, Lelouch. And I just want to make it better."

"Better?" How could _anything_ make this better? He barked with cruel laughter and noticed the way she grimaced and averted her eyes. His own mood sobering at her reaction, he sighed and considered it. "There _is_ one thing I want to ask you, though," he finally said, lifting his gaze from the floor.

She inhaled sharply and jerked upwards, eyeing him hopefully. "Yes?" she asked without wait. "Anything, Lulu."

He frowned in distaste, knowing he'd told her not to call him that. Still, he said nothing of it and instead asked, so quietly she shivered, "Was it worth it?"

Her eyes widened. "W-Worth it?" she repeated, trying to wrap her mind around his question.

He nodded. "Was it worth it?" he asked again. "Suzaku? Was _he_ worth it?"

She flinched bodily, understanding his question and hating it. "No," she said instantly. "Of course not. Nothing could make losing you worth it."

He smiled bitterly. "If only your words meant something, Euphemia," he whispered, almost to himself.

And she stared at him, as though she had lost something but she could not place it, and he wanted to yell at her. He wanted to scream, and shout, and cry, so that she could see how much she had wounded him. Her face, stained with anguish, begged him to say something— _anything_ —but he closed his mouth in finality.

There were no words. Not for this.

She closed her eyes to him and wept silently, knowing finally that she'd truly caused the end of what they'd shared. In his eyes—in the way his mouth instinctively formed the name _Euphemia_ instead of _Euphie_ —she found goodbye. She'd lost him forever. _And it's all my fault._

* * *

"Lulu?" another voice called out to him, using that same nickname he'd grown to despise hearing, especially after the one girl he'd loved seeing had twisted the warmth in it. "Are you okay?"

He lifted his head, finally identifying the voice as Shirley's. He could lie. He _should_ lie. It would be so easy to stand, dust himself off, smile at her, and tell her everything was fine—tell her _he_ was fine.

But he couldn't smile, and he _wasn't_ fine.

He swallowed roughly and stood. His eyes crinkled at her genuine concern and, finally, he managed to say, "I will be."

Shirley frowned. "I'm your friend, Lulu. You know that, right? You can trust your friends."

"Yeah," he said distantly. He envisioned Suzaku in his mind, arms and legs wrapped around Euphemia's, and felt a wave of nausea roll through him. The image wasn't helping. "I know," he said thickly. He'd trusted them both—he had _wanted_ to trust them. Almost more than anyone else.

"Don't worry about it, Shirley," he said. He smiled reassuringly, withstanding it despite the taste of poison burning his lips. "I'll be fine."

"Lulu—" she protested.

He walked away before she could finish, his heart begging to be allowed out of its cage.

 _Shirley,_ he thought. _You're just like her. Or just like the person she used to be. The person I want to remember._

* * *

 **eleven**

"Let's go, Rivalz," Lelouch urged. "Before Milly finds us."

Rivalz eyed Lelouch in surprise and confusion. "You forgot your chessboard, Lelouch," he laughed. "Hurry and get the briefcase."

Lelouch hesitated, and then he shook his head, and Rivalz blinked in shock. "Forget it," Lelouch said dismissively. "I'll use a set there. I need a new one, anyway."

"W-What?" Rivalz sputtered. "Have you lost your mind, Lelouch? You love that chessboard! Don't you remember? I touched it once, spilt coke on it, and you almost skinned me alive."

He winced. "Maybe I did lose my mind, Rivalz. Who knows?" he retorted and chuckled bitterly. "I don't remember why I cared so much now."

Rivalz shook his head. "Okay," he said finally, shrugging.

Lelouch sighed in relief when Rivalz stopped pestering him. He tilted his head upwards and watched as the sea of blue peeked out from above the clouds. It reminded him of Euphemia, and it stung. He wanted to ignore it, but he couldn't help but remember the serenity on her face when she gazed at the skies and smiled at him.

She had loved it.

He had loved her.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but even the darkness closing in on him did nothing to save him. Visions of her appeared everywhere, inescapable and unavoidable.

He clenched his fists. He saw her laugh with him, wrap her arms around him, squeeze him tight and cry with him. He could imagine her in his life, treading through snow and ice and the deserts with him; they were surrounded by droughts and famine but she was still with him, and it was enough.

But it wasn't anymore, he reminded himself. She was no longer the constant in his life. She'd strayed.

 _"This is for you, Lelouch," Cornelia said, smiling at him tentatively. "From your brothers and sisters, who love you." Beside her, Clovis and Schneizel stood, one arm around one another, drawing support from their mutual grief._

 _"Nelly," he sobbed._

 _Euphemia crept out from behind her elder sister's legs. "Lulu," she wept. She presented him with a large box, tied neatly at the top with gold ribbon. "You're coming back, right?"_

 _"Of course," he assured. Cornelia shot him a sharp glance, which he ignored. Lie or not, it was what both he and Euphemia needed to hear. "I'll never stay away from you for too long, Euphie."_

 _She smiled tearfully. "I love you, Lulu," she whispered, pressing the gift into his hands. "Promise me, okay?"_

 _"Anything," he said desperately._

 _"Promise me you'll keep playing. Promise me you'll become the best at chess, so when you come back, you can beat our big brother Schneizel, and I can cheer you on, okay? Keep playing, Lulu, and you can think of us when you play."_

 _He laughed. He spared Schneizel a glance, and saw that even his brother was suppressing sadness. "I'll be sure to do that," he said. Cornelia's eyes prodded at him; he made sure to keep his stare directed at anything but her. "I'll beat you one day, Schneizel."_

 _"I'm sure you will," his brother said softly. "I can't wait for that day to come."_

 _"So you see, you have to come back," Euphie added. "To beat Schneizel."_

 _"I will," he swore. He wanted to. He did._

 _Euphie's eyes shimmered with her tears, making the soft lavender a glowing violet. "Did you hear that, Schneizel?" she crowed, blinking back tears. "The black king will topple the white king."_

 _"Only if his queen stays by his side," Lelouch said, smiling at her. She beamed at him gleefully._

He could still see her staring at him, still feel the weight of her gaze pressing down on him.

"It doesn't matter anymore," he muttered to himself under his breath, ignoring the look Rivalz shot him. None of it mattered anymore, because she was dead to him. She should have always stayed that way.

They were princess and commoner, separated by the boundaries of society and rank. He had known that from the start. And he shouldn't have let her ideas of peace and unity fool him. They would never be on the same level, not anymore.

"The Black King is waiting for us, Rivalz," Lelouch sneered. "Let's _topple_ his king, shall we? After all, every great king has a queen standing behind him, and the Black King has none. White will win, today, and black will fall."

"I thought your side was always black," Rivalz pointed out, smiling cheekily. He laughed and added as an afterthought, "If every man is backed up by a woman, who empowers you, Lelouch?"

Lelouch smiled. "I have Lady Luck to support me this time, remember?"

 _Sorry, Euphie. But I think I knew from the start: I can never come back. Not for you, and not to defeat Schneizel. I will stand for what is right, what I believe is right, and Zero shall emerge victorious. Zero shall win. And this time, nothing you can do will stop him, ever again._

He'd been away from the board for too long, already.

* * *

"I think Nunnally was right," Rivalz muttered to Milly, Shirley and Kallen one day, during their Student Council meeting. Nina sat in front of her computer, as always, and he wondered if she cared about what they were talking of.

The only person he'd ever really seen her talk in depth to—always about science or physics or the political state of the world—was Lelouch, and the realization cut him. Whenever any of them had needed someone to lend an ear and talk to, Lelouch was always ready to help, and yet they were nowhere and they were helpless when he needed them.

"What do you mean?" Shirley asked curiously. "Right about what?"

Rivalz frowned and glanced behind his shoulder worriedly, as though he feared that a ghost would appear behind him and listen in to the conversation. "About Lelouch," he whispered, leaning toward his friends.

"About Lelouch?" Kallen echoed softly, and he remembered that she had been absent when Nunnally had last talked to them.

Milly jolted, concern in his eyes. She frowned and demanded, "What about Lelouch, Rivalz?"

He wished her worry would be for him, for once, but he ignored it in favor of Lelouch, because he knew his friend, and he knew that Lelouch had never once played a game without his personal set—or at least not willingly.

He remembered that he had asked, once, and Lelouch had only said that the chessboard brought him luck. Later on, on the day he'd made the biggest mistake of that year and knocked a plastic cup of coke over onto the board, he'd spotted a few words scrawled onto the back of the chessboard in a child's messy handwriting: _Rise and keep playing. You will be the king in our hearts, always._

He'd never dared bring it up to Lelouch, but he had never forgotten those words. It was engraved into his memory as surely as it was seared onto the board.

"You know when she said he was upset?" he asked rhetorically, shaking away the thought. He saw Kallen blink, and explained briefly, "We were worried because he'd been missing school for a few days, so she told us that he had been crying, or something."

Milly and Shirley both nodded. Kallen's jaw dropped—he understood her sentiment. He'd felt the same way, when Nunnally had first told them. He sighed and revealed, "Okay, so I know we're not meant to be gambling or anything, but please just let it go for once, because I think she's onto something. Lelouch has always, _always,_ kept this one chessboard that he brings around to play on, unless his opponents are really insistent about playing on their own boards. But, anyway—today he completely forgot it. And when I asked about it, he told me he _needed a new one._ "

They blinked.

"It makes no sense!" he insisted. "You probably think I'm crazy, and that it's nothing, but I'm telling you—he _loved_ that board."

They blinked again. Shirley pursed her lips, like she wanted to say something, but he cut her off before she could speak. He said, "I'm serious! He loved it like it was his lover, like in a really creepy way. I'm pretty sure he would have killed for it. Died for it, maybe."

Shirley arched an eyebrow. "Rivalz," she said, deliberately slowly and condescendingly, as though she was talking to an unreasonable child. She rolled her eyes and sighed as if in disappointment.

"No," he said, shaking his head rapidly. "Just—it was really important to him, Shirley."

"I'm sure it was," Shirley said sarcastically. He gritted his teeth at the blatant disbelief in her voice.

"Shirley," Milly said quietly, and he, Kallen and Shirley turned to look at her in unison. They were all stunned by the quiet warning in her voice.

"M-Milly?" Shirley asked.

Milly sighed. "Maybe Rivalz is right, Shirley. I remember that board, too. It was a present, I think." _And you're right, Rivalz—he did love it, because it represented happier times, for him. Times when he never had to worry about food, or money, or his sister, because they were loved and they had family._

Rivalz froze in shock. Not really at her words, but more at the understanding in her voice, and the grief in her eyes. She didn't say it, but he had the feeling that she knew more than she was admitting to.

"What are you saying, Madame President?" Shirley asked, her voice small and broken as she remembered the day she'd found him, misery in his eyes.

Rivalz wondered why Shirley's hands were shaking by her sides. Maybe she, too, had an idea of the depth of Lelouch's despair.

"I'm saying that—"

The door slid open. Automatically, Milly fell silent, sitting straighter in her seat and flashing a practiced, wide smile at the student who had strolled into their workroom. Rivalz didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"Hey, Lelouch," he called out as casually as he could, trying to ignore the way his voice quivered.

"Lulu!" Shirley yelped. She jumped in her seat, turning to face Lelouch and smiling at him. Rivalz noticed that the corners of her lips were trembling.

Kallen said nothing, only nodding and smiling slightly at Lelouch, but even she seemed tense. He saw her grimace and her hands curl into fists.

Lelouch cocked his head sideward. "Hey," he said finally, shrugging and taking his usual seat. "So what's the plan for today, Madame Pres?"

Rivalz caught a glimpse of sorrow masked beneath the sheen of glory in Lelouch's amethyst eyes, and he wondered how he had ever missed it before. It wasn't obvious, but it was there, and Rivalz turned away in shame.

Milly, too, must have noticed it, because her smile became just a little more fake, and just a little more forced. She widened it, but the luster in it had dimmed. "Nothing much," she said. "Just budgeting. You can do that in your sleep, right?"

He snorted, but he said nothing as he pulled the stack of papers toward him.

Normally, Rivalz wouldn't have paid attention, and he definitely wouldn't have cared enough to notice it, but this time he realized that Lelouch was taking marginally longer than he usually would have. There was no ease or grace to the way that Lelouch flipped through the pages and scrawled down his calculations—he did it tensely, with stiff shoulders and furrowed brows.

He did it as though it was a chore—and while it was, Rivalz supposed, budgeting had always been an effortless task for Lelouch. He had never had to think twice about it before. But now he did, and Rivalz couldn't help but ask himself what had happened, and what it meant.

Finally, about an hour after Lelouch would usually have completed the task, Lelouch groaned, raked his fingers roughly through his hair, and pushed the stack back towards Milly apologetically. "Sorry, Milly," he said with a heavy sigh. "I really am. I don't know what's happening. I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, I guess."

Milly pretended to scrutinize him carefully, but Rivalz knew from the sadness in her eyes that she already knew what was happening. "Alright, Lulu," she sang. Her voice lacked the cheer it normally had. It hurt him just to hear it. "You better get some rest, then. Your eyes have bags, Lulu. Honestly, it's unbecoming of a princess."

Lelouch cracked a smile, and this time, he didn't even try to argue against her teasings. It only highlighted the differences in his behavior. "Thanks, Milly," he said and stood. "I should get going. Nunnally's waiting for me to have dinner."

Milly's facade of calm dropped instantly. She paled and she rushed to him, tilting her head and staring into his eyes for a brief second before her jaw set and she slapped him, hard. Rivalz winced. Kallen blinked, stunned. Shirley's jaw dropped, and even Nina gasped.

Lelouch did nothing.

"Have you gone insane?" Milly hissed. As quietly as she'd asked it, Rivalz still heard her. "Don't you remember? Nunnally's eating with her friends today. Someone's birthday or something. You gave her permission over a week ago!"

Lelouch blinked. Realization dawned on his face, but even then, he didn't bother to rub his cheek, which was beginning to swell red. "Right," he said, exhaling through gritted teeth. "Sorry," he said again. "I don't know why this is happening."

Milly fell back into her seat in dazed disbelief. She stared at him sadly. "Get your act together, Lulu," she said, almost silently. Her hand covered her mouth and she gulped down a sob. Rivalz watched them wordlessly.

"Milly..."

"What's happening?" she asked, sounding the most panicked any of them had ever heard her be. "You're always in control. You're on top of everything. How can you forget about _Nunnally's_ plans?"

Lelouch frowned and looked away in the face of Milly's accusations. "I don't know," he admitted. "I've just—it's kind of messed up."

She smiled weakly. "Go to your room, Lelouch," she said. "Make sure to sleep. You might as well bail tomorrow, too. I'll cover for you."

Lelouch stood and graced her with a grateful smile. "You're the best, Milly."

"Don't I know it?" she murmured to herself as he exited the room. As soon as the door slid shut behind him, her mask shattered completely and she caved in on herself, convulsing.

For a moment, Rivalz had to wonder if she was laughing. But then he saw her face, and he knew that her shoulders were shaking because of anguish, and not humor.

* * *

 **ten**

"Lulu," Shirley whined. She was on an official assignment from the President, as it was put.

 _As soon as Lelouch exited the room and the doors closed firmly behind him, Rivalz jumped up and declared, "We have to get him back on his feet!" He was still feeling guilty about being thus far unable to really make a difference in helping his friend, and he was raring to start trying._

 _Kallen nodded eventually, reluctant but not hesitant. "Definitely," she agreed. "I haven't been around for too long, but even I can tell that when Lelouch forgets something to do with his sister, it's serious."_

 _"That's true," Shirley said. "We have to do something. Madame President?"_

 _Milly was unresponsive. She hadn't budged from her position, sitting on her seat and staring at the door, as if she could still see Lelouch._

 _"Madame Pres...?" Kallen prompted._

 _Milly blinked. "Oh, right!" she said. She seemed to cheer herself up somewhat, because she smiled at them and schemed, "All right. We know Nunnally's birthday is coming up, so if one of us asks him to do something in relation to that, it won't be entirely suspicious... who wants to go?"_

 _Nobody moved, because they all wanted to do it; they all wanted to help the boy who had never seemed to need helping before. They exchanged tense glances, as if silently challenging each other to speak first. Finally, Kallen suggested, "Maybe Shirley should be the one to go."_

 _"Eh?" Shirley muttered in surprise, having expected the redhead to want to go herself._

 _"I mean, you're close to both Nunnally and Lelouch, right?" Kallen reasoned. "Sorry, Rivalz, but it might be unexpected if you ask Lelouch to do something about Nunnally's birthday—if it was about gambling or something, sure, but since this is about Nunnally's birthday specifically... and Milly, no offense, but Lelouch will probably realize something is up if you do it."_

 _Milly just smiled and waved it off, "None taken." No one noticed the pained grimace she tried to hide behind her cheerful facade. She'd never before realized how much her friendship with Lelouch was based on fun and games; there used to be more, used to be tears and comfort too, but she'd faded into the Milly that loved only to joke around and she regretted it. When was the last time she had had a real conversation with Lelouch?_

 _"That's fair enough, I guess," Rivalz mumbled disappointedly._

 _"Okay," Milly sighed. "So, Shirley, I guess you should ask him to, say, help you pick out a present?"_

 _"Sure," Shirley said with a nervous smile. "I'll do it."_

 _"Don't worry," Milly winked. "We'll be there tailing you two the whole time, just in case you ever need any help!"_

 _"See what I mean?" Kallen pointed out with a grumble._

 _Milly pointedly ignored her. She perked up. "Hey, Nina!" she called out, and the bespectacled girl timidly glanced up at her. Milly smiled welcomingly. "Do you want to come spy on Shirley and Lelouch with us, later?"_

 _Nina blinked._

 _"It'll be fun," Milly reassured._

 _"Sure it will," Shirley groaned under her breath, having expected to be able to spend the time with Lelouch herself. She really should have known better._

"Please," she begged. "I need to look for a present for your sister, and who better to ask advice from than the brother himself?"

Lelouch frowned in distaste, the memory of his meeting with Euphemia the day he found the necklace for Nunnally sweeping into the forefront of his mind. "And you desperately need to find her one today?"

"Of course!" she declared. "Her birthday is in a week!"

"I know when her birthday is," he said, raising an eyebrow skeptically. _Milly might think I've lost my mind, but I'm not_ that _insane_. Shirley flushed and looked away, mortified with herself. "But fine, why not?"

Shirley's eyes widened. "Really?" she asked, beaming with joy. "Thanks, Lulu," she said, sighing with relief. _Operation: Cheer Up Lelouch Lamperouge, is a go._

"Anything for my sister," he said, and she winced visibly. He smiled patiently. "So where do you want to look first?"

Shirley smiled back, a little nervously. She laughed as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and suggested, "Maybe we should eat first? It's a little past noon already, so..."

"If that's what you want," Lelouch said with a shrug. Together, they walked to the train station, where he purchased two tickets, one for each of them. He gestured for her to follow him and maneuvered through the crowds, slipping into one of the crowded platforms and stepping onto the train, all the while unaware of the group of students following his movements carefully.

"Okay, so we'll go get lunch, and in the meantime, I can browse through the shops' collections through their windows, so we can know ahead of time which stores to scrap completely," Shirley said. "What do you think your sister would want, Lulu?"

He shrugged. "Anything, I guess." He hesitated, saw her genuine interest, and admitted, "After an... _accident_ from when we were little, she learned to accept and cherish everything. We both learned, the hard way, to appreciate the little things while we still have them." He sighed, smiling painfully. Brows creased, he looked away momentarily, regaining his composure and locking away his memories before glancing back at Shirley. He belatedly noticed her grimace, wondered if she blamed herself for bringing it up, and hurriedly added, "And besides, you have great taste. I'm sure she'll love whatever you get her."

Shirley _knew_ she should leave the topic alone and head for a new one—she could practically see Milly, Kallen, Nina and Rivalz waving frantically for her to stop—but her mouth moved before her brain could shut it down: "An accident?" she wondered. He flinched, and her eyes widened in flustered horror. "Oh, do you mean when she was blinded?"

Sorrow flashed across Lelouch's expression, just barely, and Shirley scolded herself—wasn't she meant to be cheering him up? "No," he said eventually. "Well, yes, but not quite." _It's my fault,_ he thought. _It's because of me and my big mouth that we were exiled and she was thrown away from all forms of support and medication. It's all because of me._

"I'm sorry," she said instantly. "I shouldn't have—"

"No, it's fine," he said, waving dismissively. "Don't worry about it. It was a long time ago."

Shirley sighed, feeling like kicking herself. "Still," she said. "I'm sorry. That must have sucked."

His eyelids fluttered, and he laughed. "It did," he agreed. He smiled a little more sincerely. "Thanks, Shirley. Most people are sympathetic—or they pity us—but few care to admit the truth. It does suck. And I hate pity, so that sucks too. Their apologies mean nothing to me—it's not their fault, anyway. I just want her healed."

Shirley nodded. "I get it. Your sister's really strong, Lulu. Really, really strong. I don't think I could be half as strong if I were in her position."

"Few people can be," he said quietly. "She was lucky..." He hesitated, recalled a flash of pink and purple when he closed his eyes, and admitted, "She had a best friend"— _a sister—_ "who loved and supported her."

"And what about you?" Shirley whispered, stepping closer to him. Her eyes were fixated on his, and her hands wrung unsurely behind her. "Didn't she have you?"

Lelouch smiled sadly just as the train careened to a halt, arriving at their destination. Shirley squeaked, and he caught her before she could fall. "Maybe," he said as he fixed Shirley into an upright position and led her off the train. "But I wouldn't have been enough. I'm still not enough."

Shirley frowned. "Of course you are," she protested. "Nunnally loves you! You're the best brother any girl could ever ask for."

 _That's not what I'm talking about,_ Lelouch thought, but he feigned a smile and said, "Thank you." _If I was enough, then why did Euphemia need Suzaku? If I was enough, why couldn't she have been satisfied?_

"Where do you want to eat, Lulu?" Shirley asked.

"Wherever you want," he allowed. "I don't particularly mind."

Shirley sighed, unsure herself. Finally, she pulled him to a nearby stand, which sold a variety of snacks and meals, and ordered one pizza for the both of them. "I hope you don't mind pizza," she said.

Behind her, Lelouch grimaced, reminded of a green-haired witch. "No, not at all," he lied. "In fact, I've grown quite an appetite for pizza lately."

Shirley smiled, relieved. "I'm glad," she said. They both headed for a nearby bench and waited for their food, eyes flitting from one storefront window to another. "That one looks interesting," Shirley said, pointing halfheartedly to one window. It was decorated by a spread of headbands and other accessories. "I mean, they're pretty, and it's an easy way to style your hair."

"Even for blind people, who'd usually have to worry about heat with things like straightening and curling irons?" Lelouch asked, smiling wryly.

Shirley flinched. "That's not—I'm sorry, Lelouch. I just thought—"

"No, don't worry about it," he said. "You're right. And they _are_ pretty." He eyed an orange and yellow one in particular—it looked like a wreath of flowers, only it had autumn leaves instead of blossoms. Nausea rolled through him, unbidden, when he realised exactly what he was seeing when he looked at those leaves; Euphie sprawled atop a bed of warm colors, grass interspersed in her hair, her cheeks glowing faintly with bliss, her eyes drawn to their tree and the anchor of their relationship.

"Sorry for making you wait, ma'am, sir," an Honorary Britannian waitress said, approaching them with their order. He silently thanked her for interrupting his unwelcome memories. "Enjoy your meal."

He forced himself to forget. (He hated that even now, he could see her in everything, everywhere. Her eyes and her smile and her kindness. A kindness that had turned against and destroyed him.)

"We will, thank you," Lelouch said when he was confident that his voice would come out steady. Shirley grabbed the tray; he smiled and dug into his wallet for his money before offering the waitress a wad of bills.

"Lulu!" Shirley protested. "I can't let you pay for this!"

Lelouch rolled his eyes. "And I can't let _you_ pay," he countered. "Just let me, okay, Shirley?"

She sighed and nodded. "Fine," she said. "But I'm paying for dessert."

He rolled his eyes and laughed. "We'll see," he said finally.

"Forgive me, sir," the Honorary Britannian interrupted apologetically, an embarrassed blush dusting her cheeks. She flinched when he turned to stare at her and dropped her gaze to the ground, fidgeting nervously. "I'm sorry, but we're all out of change," she said, swallowing thickly.

He blinked.

"Not a problem," Shirley stepped in quickly, shooting Lelouch a triumphant grin. "I'm sure I have exact change somewhere..." she said, rifling through her purse.

"Not a chance," Lelouch said. He snorted and gently pushed Shirley behind him. He sent the waitress a charming smile and said smoothly, "That's fine, ma'am. You may keep the change for yourself."

Her eyes widened in abject horror. "I can't do that, sir!" she protested. She spared the wad of bills in her hands another glance, almost looking regretful. She held them out to him. "Please, sir," she begged. "This is too much."

He widened his smile. "It's for you," he assured her. "I insist."

The waitress frowned and looked away. "I couldn't possibly—"

"I _insist,_ " he said sternly, but not unkindly. He neared her and whispered lowly, so only she could hear, "Britannia, my birthplace, stole away your home. At the very least, please allow me to repay you in any way I can, even if only by a fraction of a fraction."

Her eyes teared. "Thank you," she whispered gratefully. She clutched the money to her chest. "You're too kind."

He wondered what Euphemia would say about that and shook his head, banishing the thought. Why was she always on his mind, even now? "I'm only doing what is right," he said. "You have submitted to Britannian rule already; you deserve this."

She hugged herself and looked behind her shoulder, at the portly man standing by the booth. "I couldn't possible take all this for myself," she whimpered, terrified. "My boss would—"

"It isn't for your boss," he said. He suppressed a snarl. "Consider it a tip."

When she continued to look between her boss and him doubtfully, he clasped her hands, and the money, between his own and winked conspiratorially. "What he doesn't know can't hurt him."

She smiled shakily. "I'm eternally grateful," she said, bowing hastily. "My children will know that it is a Britannian they must thank for this kindness."

He laughed. "I'm not doing this to be thanked," he said. He stepped away from her and sat back on the bench beside Shirley, who looked on with tense curiosity.

The waitress nodded slowly and left, a bounce in her step that hadn't been there before.

"Wow, Lulu," Shirley said. There was a tinge of awe in her voice. "That was incredibly kind of you."

He shrugged, his eyes remaining on the woman's back. "She looked like she needed it," he said.

Shirley smiled warmly. "I'm impressed," she chuckled. "Who knew Lelouch Lamperouge was so generous?"

"Careful," he warned. Laughter simmered below the surface. "I might just decide to retract my generosity and let you pay for dessert."

"One can only hope so," she said.

He rolled his eyes. "Hope is an inconsequential thing," he countered, even though he wanted to believe in hope, just as he'd wanted to believe in Euphemia. He snarled inwardly and shoved the presence of her away.

Shirley frowned. "You're such a killjoy, you know?" she muttered.

"I know," he said with an unconcerned grin. "Either way," he began, "you better finish this pizza. I'm not too hungry." He'd eaten a slice already, but by the time he was finished, he was too sickened by the image of C.C. devouring whole boxes of the food to continue.

Shirley glared at him. "You've got to be kidding," she said. "I can't possibly finish all this on my own!"

 _C.C. would be able to,_ he thought to himself. "Then you can bring it home," he said.

"Oh, come on," she protested, but he only smiled, unfaltering. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and grumbled, "Fine."

She quickly finished one more slice before they called for the waitress, who came to them with a smile that was wider and kinder than it had originally been the first time she'd gone up to them. She brought the pizza back to them in a box and a plastic bag, bowing. "Thank you for choosing to eat here," she said. "Please come again!"

Lelouch snorted silently. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm sure I'll be back sometime." _Most likely because C.C. drags me here._

Shirley nodded in agreement, smiling back at the waitress and accepting the bagged pizza. "The pizza was lovely, and you were a brilliant hostess," she called out as she and Lelouch headed for the store with the headbands.

She mulled over it for a long time, but eventually Lelouch groaned and urged her to make her decision; and at the end she chose six different types of headbands and bought Nunnally two of each. One of the versions, Lelouch noted, was the same one he'd noticed earlier, with the colors of fall marked on it in an array of leaves.

The cashier wrapped the twelve headbands neatly for them in a beautiful sheet of parchment paper before overlapping it with wrapping paper, decorated in summery flowers. "Enjoy your day," the cashier bid, handing the wrapped headbands over in a bag.

Shirley could feel Milly, Rivalz, Nina and Kallen following them around, but for the moment she couldn't care less. "Thank you," she said to the cashier, grabbing the present. "Come on," she said to Lelouch, nodding at the exit.

When they were out on the streets, Shirley said, "Do you mind if we go around? I got my present, but it's still kind of early, so I was thinking we could get that dessert, and maybe take a few pictures?"

He almost froze at her second offer, but he kept his pace and nodded eventually. "Since we have the time," he said, a little uneasily, and nodded.

She smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Lulu."

"What do you want, Shirley?" he murmured to her as they stood side-by-side and stared at the countless vendors, ranging from cupcake vendors to ice cream vendors.

She hummed, staring around the square with wide-eyed awe and he grinned slightly at her amazement— _just like a little kid._ "Let's get sundaes," she suggested after a moment of thought, beaming hopefully up at him.

He chuckled. "Sounds great," he agreed. She skipped over to the ice cream vendor ahead of him, and he rolled her eyes and watched her as she giddily approached the stand, as if she really were a six-year-old child, for a few seconds before he hurried over.

"Lulu," she cheered. "What flavor do you want?"

His eyes raked over the list. "I'll take vanilla," he said finally.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Huh," she said. "I didn't think you'd like vanilla. But, anyway, any toppings?"

He shook his head.

"How boring," she teased him, before turning to the woman running the vendor. "We'll take one vanilla, no toppings, and one strawberry topped with Oreos."

The woman nodded and punched in a few buttons, and before Shirley could do or say anything, Lelouch pushed in front of her and held out a few bills, eyeing the reading. The woman's eyes widened in surprise and recognition. "Y-You are..." she trailed off, realized where she was, and flushed. "Sorry! That will equal to..." She bit her lip, calculating the total and the amount of cash he'd given, when he shook his head and shushed her.

"Keep the change," he said dismissively, having noticed her shock as she recognized him. He stared at her face, and despite the lack of bruises, he remembered where he'd seen her before. "I'm glad to see you're alright now," he said with a charming smile.

She gaped. "I—you—it's all thanks to you," she managed to say softly. "I can't thank you enough. And I already can't possibly repay you _without_ the extra change you're offering."

"You don't need to repay me," he insisted, pushing the money into her hands. "And I'm not offering—I'm _giving._ I will not accept refusal."

She blinked rapidly, as if trying to assess the situation, before she smiled at him, wide yet shaky, and nodded uncertainly. "Thank you, again. I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't helped me, that day."

He nodded, suppressing a grimace. He hated the submission of the Japanese. Britannia had no right commanding their obedience, and yet they did. It was despicable. More than anything, he detested the fact that his father, and the other members of the court, refused to even _acknowledge_ the suffering of the Numbers.

The Honorary Britannian held out their two cones of ice cream, and he grabbed both with a thank-you. He turned to Shirley and offered her one.

"You know, I asked you to come with me and help me with buying your sister's birthday present, but I never thought that I'd be seeing so much of you that I never even dreamed of," she commented as they walked down the pavement. She smiled up at him, her peridot-green eyes glinting at him through her thick, curly lashes. "I mean, who knew you had such a soft spot for Honorary Britannians?" she asked with a chuckle as she kicked along a pebble.

"I don't," he countered. She blinked. He smiled wryly and corrected, "Not for Honorary Britannians. For all Japanese."

"Why?" she whispered. "I mean, not that it's a bad thing, but... I never thought you would. Why?"

He just shrugged. "We conquered them. They cannot be who they are or who they want to be anymore, because of us."

"I understand that, but—"

"Did you know that I lived here before the war?" he interrupted. Her eyes widened, and when her head snapped up so that she could stare at him, she saw that he was looking down, eyes burning with brewing anger. "I know this land from before it was invaded. It was a beautiful place, you know. More beautiful than Britannia. And it was peaceful. The people were kind, and even though we were Britannians, they accepted my sister and I easily."

She said nothing, at a loss for words, and he laughed dryly. "They shouldn't have. It is our homeland that declared war on them, and for what? Why was any of it necessary? The people I saw as farmers, shopkeepers—mothers and sons and daughters—I ended up having to see splattered on the ground." Their shadows were burned into his memory, and their blood a reminder of Britannia's sin.

Shirley swallowed back the bile rising up in her throat, horrified by his description. Nausea swept through her. "I guess I never thought about the people who died," she said in shame.

"We rarely do," he said, taking her reaction in stride. "These people—they used to be proud people. But now they are hard-pressed to even acknowledge that they are strong, and they don't want to accept extra change; accept that they are worth it." He laughed breathlessly. "They've survived the war. But it might be the Britannian pedestrians on the street who end up killing them."

"...I'm glad," she whispered. "I'm glad I had this chance to see this side of you. It rarely shows up, but it's amazing, the way you understand and empathize with them. Not many people would have the compassion to."

He snorted. "I'm sure most people _have_ the capacity to feel guilty. People _could_ extend their kindness, theoretically. They just don't want to."

"That's what makes you all the more amazing," she said earnestly, and he looked away, almost embarrassed.

He crossed his arms in an attempt to hide the part of him that enjoyed her praise. "We should go take those photos you want done," he urged, gulping.

She laughed. "Okay." She smiled. "Let's go to the nearest photo booth."

By the time they arrived at the photo booth, they'd finished their ice creams. Lelouch rifled through his wallet hurriedly, retrieving a series of coins to insert into the machine. When the last two people before them exited—a young man and woman who gazed at each other on the other end of intertwined hands, Shirley observed, blushing—they entered the booth and arranged themselves quickly.

"Okay…" Shirley said, reaching forward and hastily clicking the button. She beamed at the camera as the countdown started.

 _Click._

"Lulu!" she whined. "Smile wider! Like me!"

He cringed and, warily, he broadened his smile until it became a full-fledged grin.

 _Click._

"Yes," she said gleefully, and he heard the beginnings of a laugh escape her. "Exactly like that!"

 _Click._

"Do I _have_ to keep smiling like this?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Of course!" she insisted. "One more," she promised when he frowned, nudging him slightly. "Please?"

 _Click._

She burst out laughing as their pictures came out. "We look great," she remarked sarcastically as she pointed at their faces, still laughing. "I've never seen you smile like that before. You should do it more!"

He rolled his eyes and groaned stuffily, muttering incoherently under his breath.

"Oh, shush," she said over her shoulder. "Here, you can take two, and I'll take two."

He nodded slightly, and she spread the four pictures out like a fan for him to choose from. He picked out one which had both of them grinning like little children, and then another one, with Shirley poorly hiding a giggle and with him sighing and looking at her oddly.

"We should probably get going," he said. "We're holding up the line."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, startled. She laughed guiltily. "Right. Let's leave."

He did, and while she dragged him away into the streets, with her hands in her pockets, still clutching her two pictures, he smiled and took out his wallet again. He hesitated, glanced at his pictures of Shirley and him, and he flipped open the wallet.

His gaze landed on the sole picture displayed in his wallet. It was of him together with Euphemia, taken a few days after their first picnic in the park, when he'd been too taken by her to consider his actions clearly and he'd kissed her without thinking.

He gulped, his stomach clenching painfully. In his other hand, his pictures with Shirley quivered.

"What's that?" Shirley asked him, drawing him out of his thoughts, and he jumped as if caught red-handed. Guiltily, he looked up at Shirley, and then back down at the photo of him and Euphemia, arms wrapped around each other and lips pressed together as they embraced in front of a familiar oak tree.

They looked unkempt and off-guard, as though they were drunk men chugging down their drinks, or blind, drowning men feeling for their lifeboats in an unfamiliar world as they inhaled the air that was made of their love and roamed their hands around, memorizing the feel of each other's bodies.

They'd carved their initials into that oak tree, he remembered and laughed bitterly.

"It's nothing," he told her firmly, but inside he wavered. The light inside Euphemia's eyes still sparked a flame inside him, and it refused to die out.

 _"Come on, Lulu!" the princess laughed, pulling his arm as she twirled happily in front of him. "Hurry up," she said, tugging on him. "You're such a slowpoke."_

 _He laughed with her, rolling his eyes and assenting to her control. "All right, all right," he conceded, hastening his pace. "Where are we going, anyway?"_

 _"That's a surprise," she said. She looked back at him, over her shoulder, and winked._

 _"Out into the public?" he wondered. "My, how daring of you, princess," he teased._

 _She grinned. "Anything for you," she said. He finally caught up to her, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer as she giggled and skipped down the road._

 _"Anything?" he murmured into the crook of her neck._

 _She squealed. "That tickles!" she whined, trying to disentangle herself from him. "Lulu," she protested when he refused to let go._

 _"Never," he said to her unspoken question. "You're staying with me," he said stubbornly._

 _She shrugged, stopping her struggling. "I have no qualms with that," she replied slyly. She hummed with laughter and heralded them both forward, until they had arrived at the same park they'd met in many times before. Their first meeting place as girl and boy. "Our home," she said, and he smiled._

 _"Our home," he agreed._

 _"Follow me," she whispered, leading him to the back of the large tree they identified as their own. She stood by the trunk for a brief moment, admiring the view as she always did, before she whirled around to face him and she declared, "He should be here soon."_

 _"He?" Lelouch wondered._

 _She nodded, grinning cheerily. "So we are burned into eternity, together."_

 _He blinked and descended into silence for a few stunned seconds. "Burned into eternity...?" he echoed. "Should I be afraid?"_

 _Her smile broadened, almost teasingly, and she said nothing. His question was answered, however, when a man dressed in a black suit strode around the bend. Behind him, a group of men and women, similarly dressed in professional attire, approached, struggling as they heaved and carried a large black camera over their heads. Others brought with them heavy boxes._

 _"...a cameraman?" Lelouch deadpanned, his eyebrows knitted into a skeptical frown._

 _She nodded, pleased with herself. "Of course!" She grinned. "Come on, Lelouch, please?"_

 _He sighed in exaggerated annoyance. Still, he couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips. "Fine, fine," he agreed. "Just this once!"_

 _"Yes!" she exhaled, beaming with joy. "Thanks, Lulu," she laughed._

 _He nodded distantly, wondering who the cameraman was that Euphie trusted him enough to keep his identity and their relationship a secret. He wondered if they were even aware of who he was._

 _The next hour or so were blurry in his memory as he and Euphie were pushed around and positioned everywhere and into every pose. "Yes, yes," the cameraman would say, nodding approvingly. "Marvelous!"_

 _He bore it for her._

 _When it came time for their last picture, he ignored the team's suggestions and grabbed Euphie around the waist. He dragged her to the edge of the lake, and together they watched as the water rippled while the cameraman hustled to reposition his camera._

 _"Euphie," he started._

 _"Yes?" she asked, breath caught. When he looked at her, he didn't see the princess, the emperor's daughter—he saw her rosy, flushed cheeks and her eyes, which shone with unadulterated and unrestricted happiness. Unbound by the chains of royalty, he saw her as she had always been: a child in love with life._

 _He felt blessed to see her this overjoyed, this cheerful. "I love you," he whispered throatily, unable to stop himself._

 _Her eyes widened. Out of breath, a silent laugh escaped her lips and they blossomed into a broader smile. She blushed, and in her, he saw a girl who found freedom in spite of her position. "Not as much as I love you," she responded._

 _He admired her earnest desire for peace, for harmony and unity amidst their warring world. He admired her love for everything._

 _He delved into the endless cosmos inside her eyes and lifted her by the waist, too overcome by joy to control himself or to feel her settling in his arms. She was weightless—a feather carried by the winds of change—as he pulled her flush against him and kissed her. He kissed her because he wanted to, because he loved her, and on her lips, he tasted a future. Theirs._

 _He closed his eyes, savored their love, and felt her hand in his hair. He squeezed her tighter, never wanting to let go._

 _"It's perfect," one of the women whispered, breathless with wonder as Lelouch heard the click of a camera, and his eyes snapped open as he remembered where he was._

 _He kept Euphie close for another second before they parted for air, and he watched her eyes crinkle with surprised laughter. "It's so easy to fall for you," she said, voice shaky and full of want, and he almost dove for her again._

 _"Yes," they heard, and his arms dropped from Euphie's hips with a start. It was the cameraman. They swiveled around to face him, faces red like deer caught in headlights, and he grinned joyously. "Perfect, indeed."_

 _He regained his composure first. He cleared his throat, stepped forward so he was partly shielding Euphie, and said politely, "Thank you for your time."_

 _"Y-Yes," Euphie agreed unsteadily, cheeks still burning brightly. "Thank you so much."_

 _The cameraman laughed in amusement. "No, princess, it is I who thanks you; it was a pleasure to work with the both of you," he said sincerely. "I will have the photos emailed to you immediately, and as soon as I have them printed, I will have one of my workers bring them to you."_

 _"Ah," Lelouch said. "Perhaps it would be best if they are sent to Ashford Academy."_

 _Euphie nodded eagerly. "Yes," she agreed. "Please, when they are printed, have them brought to the Dean of Ashford Academy. Give him the name Lamperouge, and he will give them to us."_

 _The cameraman smiled. "Of course," he said, and he hurried to his computer. He uploaded the pictures and sent out the email before he bowed once and left the park. His workers followed behind him._

 _"Finally," Lelouch exhaled. He grinned at Euphie. "Now it's just you and me, princess."_

 _She laughed. "Indeed," she purred._

 _He grinned, taking her by the hand and heading over to the tree. He sat down, glanced up at her, and invited, "Won't you join me?"_

 _She said nothing, but she gracefully bent down until she'd laid herself on the grass, with her head plopped up by his legs. She hummed absentmindedly and traced her name on his wrist, as if to claim him as her own._

 _He bent forward and kissed her forehead tenderly. "You're mine, princess. Forever."_

 _She smiled up at him through thick lashes sticky with tears. "Tonight," she said, rolling onto her side and resting her head on his chest and relaxing. "Tonight, Lulu, I am not a princess."_

 _"Oh?"_

 _She nodded, one arm reaching around him and playing with the hem of his shirt. "Tonight, we are just girl and boy, reunited under the stars. We are not princess and student, or the celebrated and the exiled, or the honored and the disgraced. We are not segregated by the rules the emperor has bestowed upon us. We are just Euphie and Lulu, me and you," she whispered into the enveloping fabric of his jacket._

 _Her breath licked at his chest, and he shivered at the warmth. "Me and you," he echoed, prying her fingers away from his shirt and taking them into his own hand._

 _She smiled into his chest, closing her eyes and inhaling his scent, and his strength. "Always," she said. "My heart is yours, Lulu." She guided the hand that wasn't on her hip to her chest, to the layer of skin that hummed above her beating heart._

 _"As mine belongs to you," he said. His hand freed itself from hers and he nudged her head closer to the left side of his own chest, and she let the darkness claim her as she listened to the stampeding of his heart._

 _"Hey, Euphie," he prodded._

 _"What is it?" she mumbled, almost incoherently, as she snuggled deeper towards him._

 _He laughed, and though it was all breath, it was sincere. Her hold on him tightened. "Look up, Euphie," he coaxed. She hummed and tilted her head so that she could see him and the ocean reflected in his eyes. He smiled. "The stars smile at us, Euphie."_

 _Her head lolled back and she leaned against him as she peered out into the sky. Countless constellations of countless stars blinked and chimed above them, and she pictured them beaming. "It's breathtaking," she remarked. "A sight worthy of kings and queens."_

 _"I thought that you said we are just boy and girl," he reminded her, amused._

 _She nodded. "But I'm not talking about the emperor or empress. I'm talking about the rulers of the world of chess."_

 _His eyebrows skipped upward on his forehead, and he gazed down at her fondly, a smile playing on his lips. "So we rule chess, then?"_

 _"Of course," she said quickly. "You will take up the mantle of the black king for me, won't you?"_

 _"So long as you will play queen," he answered._

 _"I will," she said. Her eyes remained on the stars even as he noticed the dreamy, faraway quality to them, and her voice longed for his embrace._

 _"If that is the case, then will the queen lead her king to paradise?"_

 _She rolled her eyes in exasperation and pushed off him. He grinned lazily down at her. "Paradise?" she repeated with a laugh._

 _"Paradise," he echoed. His stare turned serious._

 _She nodded with a smile. "She will," she whispered. Thirst and hunger mingled with desperation as they danced on the fringe of her voice. Her eyes smoldered with desire._

"Lelouch?" Shirley asked, concerned. "Lelouch."

He blinked and glanced at her. His eyes stung with unshed tears. "Yes?"

"Are you okay?" she said. She pursed her lips and kept one eye on the picture in his wallet. She frowned. "What's wrong, Lulu?"

"Nothing," he mumbled in denial. "I'm fine."

Shirley sighed pensively. "Who is she?" she asked curiously. She heard the jealousy lacing her own voice and winced.

Lelouch smiled, just barely visible against the somber graveness of his face. "She was... a close friend," he said after a beat of silence. "I think I might have loved her."

Shirley blinked owlishly. "Past... tense?" she inquired, and she wondered if that was hope in her voice.

He stilled, and the smile faded from his face. Before she could race to apologize and retract her question, he nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Past tense."

She said nothing more, and he kept his own silence.

He didn't want to admit it, but he was lying. He still loved Euphemia, even despite everything that had happened. He loved the memory of her; he loved the person she used to be. It would never be _past tense,_ he mused, because, to him, she would always be the girl who wanted to love an ideal, where he and her were equals.

He remembered the fire burning between them, tying them together, and he remembered their intertwined hands and aligned hearts as they sought to immortalize their love for each other, and he thought that, maybe, he had also wanted for them to have a chance to love and live without the judgmental eyes of others staring them down.

 _"I will love you until I die," she said._

 _He thought of C.C. and the eternity that stretched out ahead of her, and he wished he and Euphemia could share her unending life, if only so he could have Euphemia's heart forever. "And I will love you to the ends of time."_

 _(Because he knew that life was short, but the universe was not.)_

He emblazoned them into his memory as they were in their photo—in love and together—etching the lines of their smiles and the light of their hearts onto the back of his eyelids until he could never forget.

He shoved the images of him and Shirley, smiling at the camera, one after the other, into the pocket of his wallet so that it covered his old picture, and so that it hid his hope for he and Euphemia from even his own eyes.

* * *

"So," Milly said brightly. "How did it go?"

Shirley rolled her eyes. "You ask me that as though you weren't following us around yesterday," she accused. "You can't fool me, Madame Pres."

Rivalz laughed nervously. "Sorry, Shirley. Milly insisted."

"Traitor!" their president exclaimed, but she was smiling through her glare, so Rivalz only smiled back. "And it's Madame President, Rivalz," she added as an afterthought.

Rivalz wilted and amended, "Right, sorry, Madame Pres."

"But it went fine, as you know," Shirley said. "I think, at least."

"What do you mean, you think?" Nina asked shyly.

Shirley laughed nervously. "Well, there were times where he shut down, you know. Like, on the train, when I asked him about Nunnally. Or at the end, after we took our picture."

"Speaking of which," Milly interjected. "I can't believe you guys got your photo taken together! That's so cute!" She was practically brimming with excitement.

Rivalz snorted. "Madame Pres here wanted to run and jump in, just so she could be in the picture."

"Thank you for holding her back, then," Shirley said with a laugh.

Milly grinned. "You two are adorable," she cooed. "It makes me glad I didn't burst into the picture. At least now you can show people the picture and tell them you're dating!"

Shirley's jaw dropped. "Please, Madame President!" she whined, blushing.

Milly winked. "Don't thank me yet," she sang. "But you can thank me later on, when that picture is the first one you show to your grandchildren."

Shirley groaned. "You've got to stop dreaming, Madame Pres," she said ruefully, but she couldn't help but imagine it herself. She smacked herself in the head and turned away defiantly from Milly, who laughed loudly.

But even then, she remembered the other picture Lelouch kept—of him and that other girl—and she faltered. She remembered staring in shock at the desperation and desire she saw in their printed selves. She remembered the way Lelouch looked as he laid bare his heart and kissed a girl who wasn't her.

And she never told Milly or anyone else about it, because maybe she didn't want it to be true. Maybe she wanted to be able to believe that she'd dreamed it all up, the vision of Lelouch in love, and if she said it out loud, she wouldn't be able to deny it any longer.

 _"She was... a close friend. I think I might have loved her." His eyes were sad._

 _It was no hallucination,_ she thought soberly. _He... he said it was past tense._ But nothing could erase the faraway look in his eyes, and she recognized it as the same look she would have whenever she looked into the mirror and thought of him.

* * *

 **nine**

He was in the middle of discussing the Black Knights with C.C. when he noticed the group of students heading his way. He groaned and dropped the call with little explanation, only telling her, "I have to go; I'll contact you later with a plan."

He was shoving his phone into his pocket when they arrived, cornering him. He tilted his head and eyed them curiously, wondering what this was all about. Shirley frowned and looked around him, as though she had expected to find someone with him. "Where's Nunnally?" Shirley asked, frowning.

"…she's inside with Sayoko," he answered eventually. "She's sick, so whatever you have planned, leave her out of it."

"Oh, come on, Lelouch!" Rivalz whined. "You don't even know why we're here."

He snorted mirthlessly. "I know enough," he said. "I know it can't be good, not if Milly's smiling like that."

Milly's mouth fell open with an exaggerated sense of sarcasm. "You wound me, Lulu," she mocked, one hand on her chest.

He raised his eyebrows, unimpressed as he stared her down. She sighed and dropped her hand, letting go of her hurt expression with a roll of her eyes. "Now, what are you here for?" he demanded.

She grinned. "The SAZ, of course."

He worked and reworked his mind, trying to find a response. His mouth opened to let him retort, only to close again. He shook his head and sighed. "What _about_ the Specially Administrated Zone?" he asked tiredly, giving up on figuring out her motive.

Her grin broadened. "We're here to drag you along with us," she crowed. "And don't think you can escape, Lulu."

He blinked.

"Stop saying it like that," Shirley scolded, jabbing Milly in the ribs. She stepped forward and smiled disarmingly. "What she _meant_ to say, Lulu, is that we want you to come and watch it with us."

"I meant to say exactly what I said, Shirley," Milly protested. "If he refuses to cooperate, I _will_ drag him. No, wait, Rivalz will drag him!"

"Wait, what?" Rivalz spluttered from beside her, turning to stare at her, appalled.

She just smiled innocently. "Well, if Suzaku, our resident soldier, isn't here to carry out orders like that, then I suppose I'll have to rely on you to do all the heavy-lifting."

Shirley pointedly ignored them. "Let's go, Lulu," she pressed. "You should come with us!"

He winced, his eyes darting frantically to Milly, who grinned at him, to Rivalz, who smiled nervously, and then to Nina, who shuffled uneasily as she avoided his searching gaze. He heaved a sigh. "Actually, Shirley, I just remembered I have something to do today."

Milly's eyes narrowed and she took a step forward, cutting off Shirley's reply, "I don't think so, Lelouch. What could be more important than this?"

He gaped at her in shock. "But—but—I thought that you were the one who..." he trailed off, glancing at their audience and snapping his mouth shut. He glared at her, trying to convey the end of his sentence to her silently. She had to know what he was talking about.

 _"Lelouch, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Milly demanded, her stare accusatory as she stepped into his room and locked the door behind her. She scanned his room tentatively, as though she feared that, much like his behavior, it had changed, too. She was relieved to see that it was still recognizable to her._

 _He arched an eyebrow and looked up from where he was scrolling on his laptop, through the list of Black Knight applicants. He closed the lid of the laptop instantly, trying to maintain a facade of calm. "What are you talking about?" he asked._

 _Her eyes narrowed into a sharp glare. "The Specially Administrated Zone of Japan," she hissed furiously. "What are you planning, Lelouch? Why do you want to go?"_

 _He froze. The Specially Administrated Zone of Japan. He still needed to meet Euphemia there as Zero. And he couldn't let what had happened between them ruin the natives' chances at the right to call themselves Japanese again. "You're right," he said finally, his voice strained. "I don't know what I was thinking. Rest assured, I've cleared my priorities. I'm not going."_

 _Her eyes widened. She hadn't expected him to admit defeat so easily. "You..." She shook her head to clear the surprise. "Why?"_

 _He shrugged. "I was being stupid. I mean, how foolish can I be? I've long since lost the chance to choose when it comes to something like this. The secret of my identity is too important to risk, especially for a single event such as the Specially Administrated Zone of Japan."_

 _"Lelouch..." she murmured. Hesitation danced on the fringe of her voice as she searched his eyes for something, anything. She must have found what she was looking for, because she recoiled and stepped backwards, guilt on her face. "I... I understand," she said, inhaling shakily._

 _He watched as she turned around, shoulders squared and tense as she strode out of the room. His jaw set firmly. He'd go only as Zero, and only because it was required of him. Because as the masked leader of the Order of the Black Knights, it was his_ duty _to represent all Japanese, and ensure that Britannia's intentions would aid towards the betterment of Japan._

"Shirley's right, Lelouch. You should join us." Her stare, no matter how much he probed it, remained unwavering. "This'll be good for you. And besides, didn't you say it was a great move for peace?"

He blinked rapidly, his chest squeezing painfully. _Milly..._ "I did say that," he muttered, but then shook his head. "But I can't go, Milly. You know that."

"Don't you get it, Lelouch?" Milly interrupted. For once, her voice was desperate, earnest. He swallowed thickly. "We're not taking no for an answer. Whatever prior commitment you have will just have to wait."

"Milly—"

She smiled at him, and though it was an honest smile, it was small and not nearly as overbearing as her usual smiles were. It cut into him better than any knife ever could. "That's Madame President to you, Lelouch," she said levelly. "And as president, I _command_ you to join us."

It was almost funny, he mused. He wielded Absolute Obedience, and yet he still had to submit to the whims of his closest friends. He'd had to succumb to Euphemia, too, when he'd been forced to stare reality in the eye and acknowledge that she wasn't his, had never been his.

Milly bit her lip and dropped her gaze when he kept his silence. A few, tense seconds stretched out between them before she exhaled and lifted her head to meet his eye. "Please," she whispered.

His eyes widened in surprise, despite himself. She had never genuinely wanted something before, much less _begged_ for it. But here she was, lowering her guard and pride for the sake of his attendance during the SAZ.

Shirley, despite her own shock, nodded hastily in agreement. "She's right, Lulu. We won't accept a refusal."

He sighed in defeat. "Fine," he snapped, glowering at them. He crossed his arms over his chest and hissed, "This is the last time I'm letting you pull rank over me, Milly."

"Madame President," she reprimanded, voice singsong. She smirked at him, mischief on her face, but there was relief and something else in her eyes, so he let it slide.

He scowled and lagged behind them as they continued on to the subway, digging out his phone and pressing C.C.'s contact. _Change of plans,_ he messaged. _You're on your own for this. Masquerade as Zero and stall her until I can arrive._

* * *

C.C. stared down at the screen of her phone with irritation. _Not much of a plan, Zero,_ she thought with a sigh. She frowned but shrugged on Zero's outfit and cape nonetheless, putting the mask on last. By now, she was almost used to the way it filtered the world, dark and distant and numb. She maneuvered the Shinkiro to land on the stage, reveling in the awed murmurs of the crowd.

She noticed the hopeful smile on Euphemia's face, expectant and relieved at the same time, and wondered if she knew. There was something warm about the way she welcomed Zero, something like trust. It was almost foreign to her.

The princess led her to the G1, ignoring the fuss she caused as the soldiers and her knight, Kururugi, worried about her. C.C. rolled her eyes and followed Euphemia away.

The door closed behind them and the power shut off, even more darkness pervading her system. "I've turned everything off," Euphemia said quietly, sitting down. Her shoulders were hunched, so unlike a royal-born lady. "Won't you take off your mask, Lelouch?"

C.C.'s eyes widened in surprise. She hesitated for a moment, Euphemia's eyes begging her, before she removed her mask swiftly. "I'm surprised he told you," she commented idly.

Euphemia blinked, taking in her green hair, her gold eyes, her unfamiliar features. "Who... are you?" she asked, brows furrowed.

C.C. paused. For a prolonged moment, the question struck her and echoed relentlessly in her ears. Who _was_ she? To Zero, to _Lelouch,_ who was she? "An ally to your brother's cause," she said finally.

Euphemia's eyes widened. Confusion stirred in her lavender gaze, and C.C. reveled in that unease. "Is there a difference?" Euphemia asked quietly, noticing the distinction. Not her cause—peace, she thought faintly—not Zero's cause, but Lelouch's.

"Enough of one," C.C. answered, and her voice reminded Euphemia of Lelouch—a facade of softness frozen over the icy cold that reigned within. A suppressed, once-forgotten rage that simmered—for the briefest of seconds, Euphemia thought she might have understood why it was C.C. who wore that cape, that mask, as Zero's trusted.

She didn't want to pry further—didn't want to know what C.C. meant. What did her brother fight for? "Where is he?" she wondered, and a pinch of anger twisted in her gut, quickly followed by a nauseous guilt. Had he fled? Was he so unwilling to face her that he had chosen to forgo the meeting altogether? _The SAZ…_ She didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to believe that he'd let their personal misunderstandings stand in the way of justice.

C.C. shrugged, plastering the same feign of nonchalance that had gotten her through the last decades. "Where he needs to be," she said noncommittally. C.C. didn't know where he was, but she did know that what lay beneath the surface of his parents' face was an angry, monstrous thing that writhed. For his vengeance, he wouldn't shirk off his duties.

Euphemia frowned. "And where is that?" she pressed.

"He would have told you if he needed you to know, wouldn't he have?" C.C. sneered. She crossed the room in a handful of long, even strides, and sat herself down in one of the chairs. She swung around and faced Euphemia. "He'll be here soon," she muttered.

Euphemia fidgeted, discomfort clear on her features. But she said nothing as she followed C.C. to the cluster of couches and grabbed a seat for herself. "I'd hope so," she said eventually, her voice stiff. Uncertainty wove through her mind.

 _"I'll be yours forever," he promised, a sweetness he usually reserved for only Nunnally entering his amethyst eyes._

 _She blinded herself to the reminder of their father—of what he had done—and buried herself deeper into his blanket. "When we were children," she reminisced, "you guarded Nana like she was your treasure. I remember being so jealous of her. Only four, and already she had a knight of her own. But I decided that I didn't want a knight—not in you, at least. No, when I saw you, I saw your kindness first. I saw a prince."_

 _He stilled against her touch. She flinched, but pressed on, "That's when I first realized who you were to me. My prince."_

 _"A prince without a crown," she heard him murmur darkly. "A prince without a title, without a people."_

 _"I don't care," she breathed. "I am yours."_

 _"Is that a fact?" he whispered into her ear, inhaling her, exhaling her. Being her._

 _Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't find the words to answer him—in the end, when her voice failed her, she chose to nod and gaze up at him through her lidded eyes. Yes, her eyes answered him, where her mouth could not. Fact, fact, fact._

Euphemia stifled a sob, familiar in its ache and weight. God, she'd loved him. So much. More than that, she'd loved _them._ Alone, without him, she was suffocating. Drowning in _herself_.

She really had loved him. She _knew_ she had. But she'd also known that he was made of thunder and lightning—and at the end of the day, she was afraid of a little rain.

And _Suzaku_ —

—he'd just been there. He'd thought she loved him, and maybe, if she hadn't had Lelouch, she really could have. Loved him, she meant. He was everything she'd always imagined in the perfect knight—he was compassionate, selfless, generous, kind, loyal, and too just for his own good. But he'd been a _knight_ —

— _(That's when I first realized who you were to me. My prince.)—_

 _—_ and maybe what she wanted was a prince. Hers hadn't even been able to _look_ at her the last time they'd met, but she couldn't just pretend that she didn't remember; the way he tasted, the feeling of his hair in her hands, his fingers tracing circles on her back. It hurt, and remembering what she'd _done_ —how she'd killed them in a way they couldn't come back from—hurt more.

She couldn't forget. She could always feel him. Feel them.

* * *

"I hope that one day you can forgive me for what I've done," Euphemia whispered earnestly after they'd settled down. Her fingers quivered with the weight of her statement, her constant wish, and he pulled his eyes away from them.

He contemplated her words for a moment, noticing that C.C. had left the room and silently thanking her for it. Witch or not, at least C.C. understood. He picked up his mask from where it lay on the table, reliable and solid and unfathomable. He put it down again, slowly and reluctantly, and faced his sister, his enemy, his ally. "Have you ever understood?" he asked quietly.

She jerked upwards at his statement, her shoulders subconsciously broadening and her chin lifting slightly. Her eyes squinted. "Understood?" Movement drew her eyes to the mask of Zero, his mask. Her lips pressed together into a thin line. "Understood Zero?"

He nodded firmly. "Do you understand why I took up the mask? Why I needed to fight?"

"...because of father," she said after a moment of hesitation. "Because of what happened to your mother, your sister, you. Because of your vengeance."

He laughed bitterly. "You're smart, Euphemia. And it did start out that way."

"Start out?" she echoed, pointedly ignoring the way he'd addressed her—because it _stung,_ and _Euphemia_ should never belong on his tongue, not anymore. It should always be _Euphie, Euphie, Euphie._

He hummed noncommittally. "It's because of hope," he answered. "The Japanese hope for a brighter life, a _future._ And I hope for the same for Nunnally, for her smiles and for her happiness. The people of Japan have come to rely on me, princess. They count on me and put their hopes in my hands, as my sister has. And I won't let them down."

She nodded, staring at him with a weathered gaze.

"When you first proposed the SAZ... I was so angry." He laughed again, quick and loud and sharp, cutting through skin and bone. "I wanted you to understand—to have a taste of the war I've been through. I wanted you to realize how foolish your dream was, _is_. I wanted you to know what it means to be brought to your knees, as I do."

"...I'm sorry," she said, her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes watered. "I didn't know," she whimpered, half-pleading, half-unsure. "I thought... I thought you'd want it, too. The SAZ, that is. A place where we can be together, regardless of status. I thought you shared the same dream I have."

"I do," he said harshly. His voice slashed through her like a blade—better than one. "But this... I've stared our father down, Euphemia. He is not the kind of man to accept a peace like this—a tentative peace not won through war, not won through blood and chaos. He's a man who'd play his children like puppets."

"I _know_ that, Lelouch," she hissed. "I saw it, too, when he chose to exile you. I saw it! That's _why_ I renounced my title as Euphemia li Britannia. Why I forsook my heritage, my lineage, everything that makes me superior under his decree."

He was quiet for a long moment, and everything was so still she thought time had frozen. She wished it had, so she could move heaven and hell with nothing but her will, so she could bend everything and erase her decision.

 _You knighted me, princess. So let me be your knight._

She shuddered as the terrifying intensity of Suzaku's voice ripped through her for the millionth time. Ruptured by fear, she silenced his words, tore his breath and voice from him, and closed his eyes so she could no longer see the warmth in his too-green eyes. The kindness. She flinched. She didn't want to think of how kind he was, of how every bone in his body was alit with the selfless flames of a hero. She didn't want to remember.

She _didn't want to._

Finally, her brother moved again. His face shifted first. It was apprehension she saw at the beginning, gentle and unsure as it probed the muscles of his regal face. Those eyes, those high cheekbones, that defined jaw she'd traced a thousand times in her sleep. And then slowly, so slowly she wondered if she was imagining it, his face crumpled with defeat.

"Does it move you too?" he whispered finally, his voice less solid and more shadow, slithering through the unmoving air into her skull. "Do you feel it too?"

"Lulu—"

"Is it peace you fight for?" he demanded. He must have really been distracted, she thought, to not even bat an eye at her use of his nickname. "Is all this for the hope of a people that will never belong to you? For their future, even though they will never thank you for it?" He hesitated, the words he wanted to say dying on his tongue. Though he refused to voice them, she could see the question in his eyes: _Do you seek the same thing I do? Do you fight for their lives as I do?_

Her smile was weak, fragile. She didn't know what to say but: "What else is there to fight for?" But he was wrong. She wanted to claim that motive, she wanted to ride the high tide of a savior and bask in the glory of knowing she'd looked out for the misfortunate. But it wasn't the weak who'd surfaced in her mind, when she had first thought of a Specially Administered Zone and picked up her pen. It wasn't the poor, the defenseless.

It had been the strong that had emerged. So powerful, so beautiful, so like the old gods her mother had woven tales of. With hair black as night and eyes violet as a tyrant's, the earth had trembled beneath his feet. And she knew it would tremble again.

 _Don't you see?_ she wanted to say. The words strained against her lips, but she didn't budge. _Even now you don't understand._ Perhaps he never had. Behind her wide smiles and earnest _let us build a new world together_ 's, the SAZ wasn't for the Japanese, the suffering people of a forgotten nation. It was all for him. It had always been so.

He stiffened a second time, and she took the chance to trap him in her gaze. In the dim light of the G1, she saw him as he used to be, ten years old and standing strong under the starlit skies. Their favorite constellations burned bright above him, spattering flecks of silvery light onto his collarbone.

"You are just as naive as you used to be, Euphie," he murmured, and her heart wilted at the familiar look in his eyes. The familiar sound of his voice as he whispered her name like a prayer, caressing it with his voice. But then his eyes hardened, and she felt him draw up his shields again as they returned to the reality she had fractured, carelessly spilling Suzaku's determined formality over Lelouch's too-easy smiles. He let go of her name and it shattered on the ground, somewhere between them.

She didn't dare look away.

He no doubt saw her anguish because he choked out a breathless laugh. "I'm giving it a chance, _Euphemia_ ,"—his voice was cold, hard, emotionless as though he'd locked himself into a closet and all he could feel was the need to regain control—"if only because you're right. I do want this, just as you do. A world where equality, and peace, are celebrated. One where we can coexist without fighting."

"One where you forgive me?" she begged impulsively. She couldn't help it; there was nothing she desired more than the hooded look in his eyes when he took her hand in his and pressed his lips to her knuckles, than the small crease of a smile touching his eyes when she brushed her fingers against his chin. Her eyes mirrored her voice: broken, full of longing, of _missing._

A second passed. And then another, and another, and just when he was beginning to give in to their mutual want and dip his head into the slightest nod, a familiar rage washed over him. But this time, staring into the molten fire in her drowning gaze, it drained out just as quickly.

His Geass, coursing through his veins, thrummed quietly behind his eye, and he suppressed it with a snarl. He hesitated for a moment, saw the quiver of her chin as she tried to be strong, and sighed. He let the floor fall out from under his feet and nodded sharply, hating her fear, hating her sadness. "Perhaps," he allowed.

She smiled at him through her tears; a small, shaky smile, but it was still a smile. She extended her hand to him, and after a second of silence, he pressed his mask firmly to his face—he ignored the weight that came with it as it settled, new and unfamiliar—and accepted. Together, they headed out of the room and made their way toward the waiting people.

Maybe it would work. No bloodshed, no infighting, no discrimination. Just peace. He hoped.

Perhaps in premonition, his Geass itched. The pain spread from his eye to the back of his mind, but the chatter of the people drew him out and reminded him what it was at stake.

* * *

 **eight**

He pounded his fists against the cold tile of the bathroom wall and swallowed a slip of a sob. He couldn't do it—couldn't look his friends in the eye and smile and pretend _don't worry, everything's fine._

Nothing was fine. Not the world, and certainly not them.

He couldn't lie when the taste of his fairy tale still burned on his lips like venom, reminding him of the fire of their ending with every breath he took. He couldn't when her meek, terrified lavender eyes still burrowed holes into his skin, and every time he closed his eyes her face shadowed by the dark of the G1 haunted him.

He couldn't when it was her voice that sung him to sleep every night, and then awoke him with a hideous shriek each following morning.

 _I—I can't—I'm going insane—_

He knew he was. He could feel himself losing his grip on reality, feel the rope tethering him to the living world instead of his fading memories fray and tear.

He needed to forget her. To forget _them_.

* * *

 **seven**

She'd taken to ignoring Suzaku. She knew she couldn't avoid him forever—she knew it was wrong, especially when his confused eyes continuously reminded her that none of this was her fault.

If only she could blame him. She wondered if that would be easier, pinning her loathing on anyone but herself.

 _Let me be your knight._

"No!" she howled, and buried herself into the fabric of her gown. Her tears stained the white, the pink, until her dress was as ruined as her soul. "No," she sobbed, gasping for breath. "Stop. Stop!"

She clutched at her ears as though that would stop the torrent of memories, the flood of Suzaku's words, clashing against Lelouch's in her mind.

Everything she'd said, too. Everything she wanted to take back.

 _Let me be your sword and shield. Let me guard your body from all who'd seek it. Let me protect you, Euphemia-hime._

 _I don't want you to give your life for me, Suzaku. You are my equal._

 _You know we can never be equals._

 _We can,_ she'd insisted. Now she wished she'd just smiled through the haze and walked away from Suzaku, walked away from all the sadness in his eyes. _Let us be equals, Suzaku. All alone, there is none to judge us._

 _Euphemia-hime..._

 _My name is Euphie._

 _...Your name is Euphie._

She shook her head, furious with herself now that she could replay all those fleeting moments in her mind and realize the ditch she'd been digging. _Stop it,_ she willed herself. _You're stronger than this. Stronger than the forest in his eyes. Show him, show Lelouch. Walk away from him—don't lose the only thing that's ever mattered since you were four._

Lelouch—his name slipped into her mind and she snatched it greedily, throwing it at Suzaku's hopeful gaze and sending dust flying. Lelouch. Remembering him was always easier, even if it came with the agony of her betrayal.

 _You are mine._

 _I am yours._

She flinched. When she thought of his words, she could still hear his voice echo in her head. She could hear the son, the brother, the student, the commoner, the prince, the revolutionary, the miracle-maker, the _boy,_ in him. She heard it all.

 _We're just a girl and a boy,_ she thought, desperately clutching onto what was left of them. _We don't have to be anyone but children. Just say the word, and we can turn back time to when we stood in your mother's garden, fearless yet shaken._

 _Say the word._

* * *

 **six**

"Hey, Shirley." He hesitated, his pace slowing as he caught up to her. He still remembered their outing to the mall, when she'd asked him to help her pick a gift for Nunnally. And he remembered the shock in her eyes when she'd spotted the picture buried in his wallet, just as vividly. "Have you ever… loved anyone?"

He heard her inhale sharply and refused to meet her eye. "I have," she said after a long beat of silence. "Why?" There was a pinch of fear in her voice as her breath hitched.

He didn't know what to say to that. After all, he didn't even _have_ an answer for her question. Why? _Why_?

"How did you know you loved that person?" he found himself asking.

"…when it began to be for his sake that I woke up in the morning. When I realized that every night before I sleep, I pray for him. When I realized that I'd do anything to see him smile. I figured out because every time I spot him in a crowd, I can't look away. And whenever he's near me, I can't help but hope."

He didn't notice that he himself was shaking until she stopped talking and walking altogether. "Hey," she said quietly, "you okay?"

It was the same with Euphemia. The night after he'd first kissed her, it was all he could do to fall asleep. And he remembered seeing her face, eyes kind and smile warm, as he awoke. He remembered thinking of her at school—every second of every minute of every hour, he was back by their tree, with her in his arms.

But, no, he corrected himself. It _used to be_ like that with her. _Past tense,_ he thought firmly. Now, whenever he imagined her face, all he could remember was how she'd looked in Suzaku's bed, curled up to him. How she'd _fit_ so perfectly against Suzaku, as though the gods had carved and molded her to press into him like a missing puzzle piece.

He smiled bitterly. "I'm fine," he said, dismissing Shirley's concerns. Because he _was_ fine. He had to be. He _would be_.

He paused a second too long.

"Lelouch?" Shirley pressed, her eyes worried—had her eyes always been that _vibrant_?

"How do you know when to let go?"

She froze. She calmed herself and plastered a mask of neutrality over her face, even as her heart thundered in her chest. Anxiety stirred inside her. "When it stops being _love._ When it starts to hurt, starts to stifle who you are and when you feel like it's a threat. When you stop being you because of it."

"Shirley," he breathed. Her words rattled something in him, something he'd once thought he'd buried deep. " _How_ do you— _let go_? How _can_ you?"

 _…You just do,_ she wanted to say. She wanted to beg—to ask him _what's happening_ and to tell him _I'm here for you if you need me._ But he didn't even seem to see her. His gaze was clouded. "I don't know," she whispered. And she didn't. She'd never—never tried to. She didn't think she'd ever even _wanted_ to stop loving him.

He swallowed roughly, but nodded at her, a bit thankfully. He said nothing, but maybe he didn't need to. He saw something familiar on her face, something that resembled home, and his forced smile twisted. _Maybe it's time I let go,_ he mused. They were over, and he couldn't dwell on the feeling of her lips on his when she'd already taken the first step away.

* * *

 **five**

"Your Highness," one of the secretaries said politely, standing outside the open doorway. The princess inside glanced at her in question, and she curtsied respectfully. "Forgive me for interrupting, Your Highness, but there's someone downstairs asking for you."

The princess blinked owlishly, and the secretary flinched. She had always known Princess Euphemia to be a kind, graceful, cheerful girl, but now it was as if that person had died and been replaced by a crude lookalike. The elegance and poise were still there, but she lacked her usually unrivaled joy. The person she'd once been had been turned around and sunk in the middle of a merciless, frozen lake, and the secretary didn't know why.

Even the princess' sister, Cornelia, had seemed perturbed when Euphemia stumbled into the bureau one day, no longer smiling. Now she hardly ever laughed—she hardly ever _spoke._

"...someone?" Euphemia asked scratchily, and the secretary grimaced at the sound of her voice, unused.

"Yes, Your Highness." The secretary paused, remembering the dispassionate expression of the blue-eyed young man she'd left waiting at the front desk. "He referred to himself as... 'nothing more than a commoner student,' Your Highness. He said he was just a boy."

 _"Who are you?" she asked, squinting suspiciously at the boy in front of her. "What business do you have with the princess?"_

 _The boy smiled cruelly. "I'm no one to be concerned about," he said, brushing off the question with a cold look on his face. "As for business... if she inquires into it, inform her that I have come to return something long overdue."_

 _She blinked and glared at him skeptically. "She is a princess," she reminded him scornfully. "I would be a fool to let someone like you, who does not even deign to identify himself, approach her personally. There are security measures for a reason, and her safety is our greatest concern. Unfortunately, as you have not booked an appointment, and you are not here for anything of great urgency, I will have to ask you to leave."_

 _He chuckled. "Oh, believe me, it is quite urgent." She did not waver, and he rolled his eyes. "If you insist, then I will tell you this: I am just a boy. Surely, you will let me pass? After all, I mean her no harm. I am nothing more than a commoner student."_

 _"Sir, I'm afraid you should go."_

 _"You'd kick out a boy who has done nothing?"_

 _"I will not repeat myself," she said sternly._

 _"Please," he said, voice cracking, and she paused. "Just tell the princess I'm here, and if she refuses me, I'll leave."_

"Normally, the security would escort him out, but in this case..." the secretary trailed off and sighed. "Again, I apologize, Your Highness, but he was quite insistent."

"Just a boy, you say?" Euphemia mused thoughtfully.

 _"Tonight, we are just girl and boy, reunited under the stars."_

Her eyes widened in realization. She smiled just the slightest bit. "I will meet with him," she said instantly.

The secretary blinked. She opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again abruptly. _Her Highness is smiling again,_ she thought, astonished. "Understood," she said at last. "Should I have him brought up here, Your Highness?"

Euphemia nodded giddily. "Yes, please do."

The secretary did not question her excitement, though she was confused. She bowed out of the room and returned to her desk, where the blue-eyed boy stood waiting impatiently.

"So?" he asked, arching an eyebrow expectantly.

She scowled at him. "The princess is waiting for you in her chamber," she said shortly, irritated by the knowing smirk that crept up the boy's face. She didn't understand what made the princess so happy. "This way, if you please," she said, gesturing at the stairway. She led him up, not bothering to look back at him, and stopped in front of Euphemia's tall double doors.

"Thank you," he said. He didn't look around himself, much to her surprise. It was as if he'd been here before.

The secretary knocked on the door. "Your Highness?" she called out servilely. "He's here." She shot the boy a warning glance, making a note to alert the guards to his presence in the princess' room, and reluctantly left his side.

The door opened. Euphemia, dressed as Sub-Viceroy, smiled at him shakily. She noticed his appearance and cleared her throat, greeting him uneasily, "Lelouch. Why the blue eyes?"

"I'm not exactly the beloved prince of the empire, if you haven't noticed," he said irritably, and she grimaced. "Anyway, I'm not here to discuss colored contacts with you."

"Right, of course," she agreed. "Why _are_ you here, Lulu?"

He paused. "I'm not going to act like nothing happened," he said finally. "I can't. Ignoring is too hard. Forgetting, even harder."

"Lulu...?"

And he made sure to remember the sound of his name on her tongue, repeating it over and over again in his mind—memorizing everything from the silliness of the nickname, to the hopeful melody of a promise at the beginning, to the light accent of the vowel at the end, to her breathless wonder—because he knew it would be the last time he heard it.

"But I can't keep this," he said, retrieving an envelope from his messenger bag. There was only one name written on it: _Lamperouge._ He remembered Reuben's eyes, curious and concerned, as he called Lelouch into his office, sat him down, and pushed the envelope across the desk, to him.

 _"What are you planning, Lelouch?" Reuben asked worriedly. "A worker of one of the most famous cameramen handed this to me, with orders to give it to a Lamperouge. Now, this might not have raised such an eyebrow if it was any other cameraman, but I distinctly recognized the name on the card the worker offered me as the name of a man who works for the royal family."_

 _Lelouch paused, pocketed the envelope with a fond expression that did not go unnoticed, and answered honestly, "I'm not planning anything, Reuben. Not this time."_

"L-Lulu," she stammered, realizing his intent and hating it. "This—this is..."

He nodded curtly. "It belongs to you."

She wanted to argue. She wanted him to keep it, if only so that she could reassure herself that he would never forget what they used to be. "But—"

"Stop it," he said. "It's yours."

She wondered if he would burn it, if she didn't accept it. So she did. Later, after he had left and she was all alone again, in the company of only her own misery, she flipped through the pictures and sobbed at the smiles on their faces.

She laughed, through her tears, at the image of herself and Lelouch peeking out from either side of their oak tree, grinning from ear-to-ear and pretending to be little children again. She remembered promising him infinity as she saw a photo of them sitting by the lake, caught up in their own conversation. She saw them lying down on a bed of autumn leaves and almost broke down; she could still feel his heat beside her, and it hurt.

They were hugging in another picture: they'd waded into the lake and she'd perched on his lap, nestling her head on his chest and laughing out of the camera's sight as his arms claimed her forever. His body had molded against hers, settling perfectly as if they were crafted for the sole purpose of holding one another up—it made her weep.

Her eyes widened, however, when she reached for the only photo left untouched, and she came face-to-face with the memory of the two of them sitting on the tree's lowest branch, their legs swinging freely in the air as they held hands and laughed, staring at each other as if they shared a secret.

 _We did,_ she thought. _Our love was our secret. The best secret._

She frowned, though. _Where's the final picture? The last one we took?_

It was nowhere, and she quickly logged into her email and pulled up the photo. A tear crawled down her cheek and dropped onto the keyboard, but she barely even noticed. She shivered at the sight of her and Lelouch, locked together in their embrace. It reminded her of how she'd felt in his arms every time he held her to him and kissed her, but the photo could never truly replicate the memory of what had happened.

She looked back down at the pile of photos on her desk. She grabbed the envelope again, but it was empty. "It's... gone?" she thought aloud. She thought about the meaning of its absence and she hoped, _Does this mean he kept it? Is it with him, still?_

She balled her hands into fists and clutched the printed photographs between her fingers. The film paper sliced into her palm, drawing blood and a sharp sting of pain that struck her with the force of a boulder. But she felt nothing.

She closed her eyes and apologized a hundred times over (if only that was all it took), wishing he'd open his arms for her as he'd done so many times before. The space between his hands used to be home to her, a tiny little cocoon she loved to think of as a safe haven, but now he wouldn't even look her in the eye.

That was how her sister found her a few hours later, pink hair covering her face like a curtain as she wrestled with slumber. She twitched every few seconds, but never awoke.

Cornelia smiled sadly and backed away from the threshold, quietly closing the door and affording her sister the privacy she'd always longed for. She never noticed the pictures Euphemia gripped tightly even in her sleep, never saw the autumn leaves peeking out of pale, shaking hands.

* * *

 **four**

It wasn't until he came upon Shirley crying on the roof that he realized how far he'd fallen into the abyss. He'd come so close to the point of no return (some days he thought he'd already crossed that line), and the misery in her expression sent fire spreading through him.

It was his fault, her despair. He'd always ended up hurting those he cherished most.

A loud, keening wail wrenched itself from her chest and he found himself skidding across the floor. He gazed up at her from his place kneeling before her and his chest squeezed with pain when he saw her tears.

"Shirley," he breathed. She'd always been so strong, a steadying presence he'd always taken as constant, and he'd rarely ever seen her waver. (C.C. was powerful in ways that terrified him, and Milly with her untamable mischief and sharp wit had been a comfort from the day of his mother's death, but Shirley was innocent, was unfailingly sanguine, was one of the most admirable people he knew.)

If he had to be honest with himself, he didn't know what to _do_.

Her fingers were curled around something, clutching so tightly her knuckles were white and strained. He folded his hand over hers, not even thinking as he eased her grip. Her fingers finally loosened enough to let a small square of paper flutter from her grasp to the floor. He held her as he leaned down and caught the paper before it could fly away.

He turned it around and only immediately recognized Shirley in the photo. She was surrounded by two adults, both smiling warmly as they hugged her between them. Her parents, he knew they had to be.

He glanced up at her questioningly. "Shirley?"

"He would have turned forty today," she said quietly. Her voice was haunted and hollow; already too broken to crack again. "It's been months but... it's so hard, Lulu. Sometimes it's easy to pretend he's just gone on another business trip—it's easy to ignore the shadows and be strong for my mom. But it's _not_ just another trip, because this time he's really gone."

Dread swirled dangerously in his stomach. He thought back to her father's funeral, thought back to the weeps that had torn their way out of Shirley and her mother—the grief he'd seen in them had been so real and different to the grief that had been present at his mother's own funeral. He thought back to the way Shirley's mother had caved in on herself and snapped, begging them to spare her husband, begging them to not bury him ( _again_ , she'd said).

"Do you need to talk?" he asked hoarsely, barely able to find his voice. She shuddered in his arms and he whispered a constant stream of ' _breathe_ 's and ' _it's okay_ 's in her ear. But it wasn't okay, and he knew it, and she knew it, and he cursed his lack of tact. To make up for it he squeezed her tightly and murmured, "I'm here, Shirley. I'm right here."

"He was buried in Narita," she whispered. "I can't... I can't even imagine how frightening that must have been. He died _alone_ , Lulu. He died alone and in the dark and suffocating. And I wasn't _there_ for him!"

His expression blanked. Inwardly his life careened to a halt. _No,_ his brain boomed, as if that single word, his denial, could rewrite fact. _No. No no no no no. No._

Narita.

The word was his damning.

He'd never meant to involve her, not her with the kind eyes and the too-golden heart, not her who'd always looked out for him _(stop gambling, Lulu, it's not good for you!)_ even when he'd protested it.

"I'm so sorry," he managed to choke out, and when she dropped to her knees and sobbed into his shoulder, he hugged back. "I'm so sorry, Shirley."

He tried to ignore the sting when she replied scratchily, "W-Why are you sorry? It's not your fault, Lulu."

He could practically hear the words _It's Zero's fault_ whispering from her mind to his.

He gritted his teeth and pulled her closer. He didn't complain when she buried her face in his uniform and dug her nails into his back.

(It wasn't until long after she'd settled down and dozed off that he put two and two together and realized that her father had died on the same day she'd gone to that opera she'd asked him to go to with her. Except he'd thought of Euphie then and refused.)

(If only he hadn't refused. If only he'd been there for her.)

(He'd left her alone.)

* * *

 **three**

It was harder than he'd expected it to be, pushing the words through his numb lips and letting them fall harmlessly from his tongue. (Only there was so much harm to be caused; harm in the form of wide, blinking eyes that did not see him and a smile that no longer carried her adoration.)

"Lelouch Lamperouge commands you," were the words that tumbled into the empty space between them, "forget me."

Because he was Lamperouge to her, not vi Britannia, and somehow that made it worse. He wanted to take back the words, to rip them from her mind and stuff them away somewhere she will never hear them, but he could tell from the rigid blankness of her stare that it was too late.

He didn't want her to forget. Didn't want her to forget knowing him, hating him, yelling at him, lecturing him. Didn't even want her to forget thinking he was a lazy delinquent.

For the first time since the beginning of it all, he contemplated shoving C.C.'s so-called gift of Geass back down her throat.

(And Shirley peered up at him through those same, too-innocent eyes and she smiled and laughed and her voice was everything. She was everything. And goddamnit if he hated himself for pushing her away.)

* * *

 **two**

Time passed quickly after that. Almost too quickly, and whenever Lelouch looked back on the weeks that slid out of his fingers he couldn't help but curse his own stupidity. His ignorance, his blindness.

He was so, so stupid.

Because he let her get close again, let her sneak in and make a mess of his prison cell. It was the same mistake he'd made years younger, years more oblivious, and he wanted to groan.

* * *

 **one**

They became friends again. They argued often, throwing words and shouts at each other with a heated passion he'd so missed during the interim—but they laughed together, too, exchanging cheeky grins and knowing smirks whenever Milly's devious plans chased them through Ashford halls.

And if sometimes he looked at the peridot green of her eyes and saw another life, one he'd stolen from them, well... no one had to know.

(No one had to know that sometimes he peeked into his wallet and let himself remember that other life, eyes skimming across wide smiles frozen in time.)

* * *

She found her way back into his heart, bypassing all his gates and walls.

It was so slow, so gradual he hardly even realized it at the time.

And when he finally lost her, it sank in with a shrieking finality and a dizzying nausea how much she meant to him; she'd somehow become his guiding light, his anchor, and he'd come to look at her sweet smile with a desperation that reeked of need.

She'd been his, and he'd taken her presence for granted.

* * *

 **zero**

She was beautiful, he thought, his stomach clenching painfully. Too beautiful, even now as death snaked around her.

Her skin was paler than normal, so ashen she seemed to sink into the polished white tiles of the floor. Her blood crept into her hair, slowly dyeing the golden sunset of her strands a darkening red. Her eyes blinked up at him, slow and sweet as though she wasn't sure where she was, where he was, where they were.

Peridot green. He wondered when he started seeing them everywhere, in the cafe when he stopped for croissants and in the bookstore when he ran an eye over the titles.

"There's something I've always wanted to do," she began breathlessly, "but I never had the courage to ask." Desperation built up in her voice, and Lelouch's eyes latched onto hers intently.

Anything, he wanted to say. The words itched at his tongue. Anything, whatever you want. When his voice failed him, stuck somewhere in his ribcage, he tried to convey the words with his eyes.

"Will you... will you kiss me?" she asked, and there was a note of hope in her voice that had him crumbling.

"Yes." He wanted to laugh and then cry. He wanted to take her into his arms and never let go. He wanted to love her. And this was never how he'd imagined their beginning (so close to her end).

(Not for the first time he could feel the obvious black of his phone glaring at him. It was a glare stained by blood, and he didn't let himself think. She wanted him more than safety, wanted his love more than the life a doctor might be able to breathe back into her, and he couldn't imagine why.)

But her eyes were pleading, and they prodded him apart so gently he couldn't help but cave.

Her face lit up with joy, so akin to the blaze of a shooting star that for the moment he could forget the blood coaxing her adrift.

Lelouch moved until he was hovering above her. He tried to ignore the falter in her eyes, the way her breath stuttered and hitched and she weakened. He didn't close his eyes when he finally lowered his head and captured her mouth with his. He didn't want to miss this, miss the way her cheeks flushed and her forehead smoothed over with peace.

And Shirley should taste like hopelessness, desperation and death, but to Lelouch she tasted like home, like family—like love.

She lifted her head weakly and demanded for more, her hand trailing up his side to come to a rest on his neck. She pushed them closer together, eyes sliding shut.

He couldn't help but think that she resembled hope. In the silk of her lips, he could see a life unfolding. Her hand in his as they stood beneath a brewing storm. Her head leaning against his shoulder, his hands wrapped loosely around her, dragging her ever closer. He saw them kneeling side-by-side, a wreath of flowers keeping them caged together. He saw them laughing, saw them smiling, saw them crying and screaming and kissing. He saw her bathed in the soft glow of the dawning sun, of the city lights glimmering faintly in the distance, of the moonlit skies above them. He saw her beside him always.

And he could have _had all of this_ if only he'd let himself months earlier. If only he'd listened to the rhythm of her heartbeat, thumping in time with his because they were tied together. She'd fought and fought and fought and he'd never allowed himself to hear her words, never allowed himself to think and wonder and hope.

He could have had _her._ He could have loved her; he knew he could have, easily. Falling in love with her—it would have been as simple as breathing, he knew.

But now it was too late, because there was truth in the taste of her kiss too, and he knew the instant the press of her lips against his lightened that she was fading.

And when Lelouch looked down at Shirley, for a second he saw the woman she'd been as she squirmed across him all those months ago, asking him to the opera.

He should have said yes.

* * *

Shirley supposed she should be glad that their last moment was a happy one. It seemed to her like she'd wanted this forever; wanted _him_ forever.

After everything... she'd lost him once already, to demonic red eyes and a sharp smile she remembered being more bitter than relieved. She'd lost him to the shadows that snatched greedily at her memories and devoured them.

She didn't want to lose him again.

And when she managed to force open her eyes and stare drowsily up at him, her muscles and her lungs and her brain begging for rest, she saw the tremor in his jaw and knew.

She didn't have anything much to say, and she didn't particularly feel like talking about the future, especially when there wasn't going to be one for them.

 _I love you,_ she almost breathed. _I'll always love you. Over and over again, I'll fall in love with you. No matter where we are, who we are, when we are. It's always going to be you._

But there was a misery that stretched far and wide in his gaze, and she thought that maybe he already knew. So she swallowed the words, admired the violet of his eyes, and let the smile fall onto her lips.

"Thank you," Shirley whispered instead, her fingers slackening around his neck. Her hand fell, tumbling down his skin and brushing against his cheek—and if she felt him shaking, felt him crying, she would forget soon enough.

* * *

The words _I love you_ rested on the tip of his tongue, begging for relief, but by the time his eyes landed on her again, Shirley had closed her eyes and it was too late.

Shirley's heartbeat skittered to a standstill, and Lelouch regretted never saying it out loud.

* * *

It was times like these that he couldn't help but wonder if maybe C.C. had been right all along. Even from the start she'd told him Geass was a curse, and this curse brought him solitude.

He should have listened to her.

* * *

 **A/N: This was supposed to be the "highschool sweetheart" section of his life, and at the beginning I'd planned to write Lelouch and Shirley's relationship as, well, _more of a relationship_ —but at the end I kind of figured that it'd be unrealistic to have Lelouch get over Euphemia that easily. I mean, in this story he's loved Euphie for at least eight years, after all. So this was kind of a getting-over-it phase? And so Shirley's his anchor, and there's some love there too but not so much that he's just jumping from one relationship to another without any hesitation. I thought it'd be sadder that way, especially since Shirley ends up dying.**

 **And as for that point, well: as you can see, I did end up agreeing with most of your comments and left Euphie alive (I'm itching to continue writing out the consequences of her betrayal, because even though Lelouch has closed that door she's still in his life and nothing ends that cleanly), however I decided to leave Shirley's fate as is, mainly because it's one of the most tragic deaths of Code Geass—aside from Euphie's and Lelouch's himself—and I thought it would be even more tragic this way, with Lelouch left wondering about what-could-have-been.**

 **I hope none of you are too disappointed with how this one turned out. I just couldn't bring myself to write them in a romantic relationship after Lelouch only recently ended the one with Euphie. I love their dynamic in the show, though, and I hope I've somewhat successfully incorporated that. Their relationship is the kind that's like, they _know_ there's something there but Lelouch isn't quite ready to explore it, even though he _knows_ he could easily fall in love with her if he would just let himself and give it a chance.**

 **As for the sections written in Euphie's perspective** **—my excuse for that is, again, even though they aren't in a relationship anymore they were once and so she's still in his life. Most of it was him finding closure, but, well, I'm kind of addicted to writing Euphemia. Either way, after all the ways their lives were intertwined she can't just drop out of his life like she never mattered. She'll always be there in the back of his mind, so this was kind of an attempt at showing that.**

 **Okay, right, that was too long of an A/N, and I really ramble way too much. So, to end this finally: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and feel free to leave a review or PM anytime :).**


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